Burn With You
by blackrose1002
Summary: FBI Special Agent Kurt Hummel has one goal - catch one of the most wanted and cruel criminals, Sebastian Smythe. After a string of failures, he's forced to ask for help from Smythe's former partner, currently locked up in prison. They hate each other with passion but will they be able to work through the issues between them and unite to overcome their common enemy?
1. Prologue

**Hi everyone!**

**Welcome to my new fic! I've had the idea for it for such a long time and I'm happy that finally I managed to do something about it :)**

**I don't know how long it will be, the first few chapters are written, we'll see how it goes. I hope to update regularly but, please, bear with me, my exams start soon so there might be a delay.**

**Oh, and I'd like to thank Shy, my wonderful beta :)**

**This fic is totally dedicated to Jodie and Mary, my two cheerleaders who patiently listened (and still do) to my whining about writing this fic :)**

**The title is from a Lea Michele song.**

**I own nothing (I wish I did).**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Prologue**

Blaine Anderson was mad. No, mad wasn't the right word. Blaine was _furious. _"This fucking idiot." He muttered under his breath as he paced around the room, waiting for his partner to join him.

Tonight's job was supposed to be easy, the only thing they had to do was to break into the museum, steal the painting and replace it with the forgery. Quickly and quietly. _But no, of course not, _Blaine thought bitterly, _he always has to complicate everything._ The sudden noise of the door being opened made him stop abruptly and stare at the entrance with narrowed eyes.

"Hello, sunshine." Sebastian Smythe said, walking into the room, wearing a huge grin on his face that infuriated Blaine even more. "Aww, you don't look very pleased, what's up, darling?"

"What's up? WHAT'S UP?!" Blaine yelled, seconds away from tearing Sebastian to pieces. "This job was supposed to be nice and easy, there was no need to kill this couple, you know that, Seb! Why the fuck did you do this?!"

"They saw us. It was…"

"No, they didn't!" Blaine interrupted with a growl. "All they saw were two shadows, they weren't a threat. What's wrong with you?!"

Sebastian looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Wrong? With me? You're not turning soft, are you, Blaine?"

"I'm not turning soft, you idiot." Blaine snarled. "I'm just opposed to unnecessary deaths, they didn't have to die."

"Why does it even bother you? Job's done, nothing else matters." Sebastian shrugged. "You need some time to cool down, then we're gonna talk. I'm not in the mood to listen to your whining, I'm far too happy for that. I'll see you later." With that, Sebastian turned around and left the apartment, the smirk never disappearing from his face.

Blaine groaned in frustration, rubbing his temples tiredly. It wasn't the first time they had a fight like this and just like before, Sebastian stormed out without solving the problem and to be honest, Blaine was starting to get worried about his partner's reckless behavior. If nothing changed, it could get them caught one day and wearing these orange prison clothes wasn't really on the top of his to-do list. Sighing deeply, Blaine headed to the kitchen as his stomach grumbled loudly; he was always starving after doing a job, he couldn't help it. While preparing something to eat, his mind went back to his issues with Sebastian and unfortunately, he was coming to only one conclusion. Sebastian was getting out of control.

Blaine and Sebastian had been working together for a while now and they specialized in robberies and forgeries; Blaine could forge absolutely everything, bonds, paintings, sculptures, any piece of art. They became famous very quickly, everybody knew that they were the best, no one had ever tried to deny that. At the beginning they had also agreed – no killing unless it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes it would be inevitable, Blaine was aware of that, but it was always Sebastian who killed, Blaine didn't want to anywhere near that.

But lately things had changed and Sebastian started to act differently. He started talking about "broadening their interests" as he put it, adding contract killing to their repertoire and that was something Blaine wasn't okay with. Like he said, he was opposed to unnecessary deaths. After a fight Sebastian had dropped the subject, but Blaine knew better than that. The idea was still in Sebastian's head and it wouldn't be easy to persuade him out of it. After a while Blaine noticed that his partner started to act looser during their jobs, like he wanted someone to see them so he could kill them, just to prove a point. He had to be stopped and Blaine had yet to figure out how to do this. He _really _didn't want to wear the orange clothes for ten years or maybe even more.

Finishing up with his food, Blaine took a deep breath, deciding to stop thinking about Sebastian for now, he was way too tired for that. After taking a quick shower, he threw himself on the bed, the sleep coming almost the moment his head hit the pillow.

Yes, he would worry about Sebastian tomorrow.

* * *

The phone was ringing.

_Why the hell is it ringing?!_

Blaine opened his eyes, slowly blinking a few times. Glancing at the clock, he winced, it was seven o'clock, way too early for him to be awake and the people that knew him were very well aware of this.

"What the fuck?" Blaine mumbled sleepily, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. Five missed calls, all from Sebastian. Blaine was about to call him back when he received a text. He opened it, hoping that Sebastian had a fucking good reason to wake him up so early.

**Sebastian: **_**Meet me in the docks. 5pm. The usual place.**_

Blaine groaned, tossing his phone aside and buried his face in the pillow. He felt like murdering Sebastian for waking him up, especially since the meeting was in the late afternoon and that bastard definitely did it on purpose. It was payback for the fight, Blaine was sure about that. After sending a quick reply and cursing Sebastian once again, Blaine buried himself under the covers and closed his eyes, hoping sleep for a while longer.

When he woke up again, it was 10am. He stretched his arms and lazily got up from the bed. After small breakfast and the shower, he decided to work on few forgeries he had to finish before the end of the week. He walked into his studio and instantly felt relaxed and comfortable. It was the magic of the art – it always calmed him, the studio was his sanctuary. He started humming quietly and began to work.

Blaine was so focused on his work that he wasn't aware of how much time had passed, it always happened when he was painting. But suddenly, it was already four o'clock and he had to get going if he wanted to make it to the docks on time. Put his gun in the holster, he covered it with his leather jacket and after grabbing his keys, he left the apartment.

Reaching the docks right on time, Blaine headed to the place where they usually met, but Sebastian wasn't there which was weird to say the least – Sebastian was never late. Blaine was about to call him when, suddenly, he heard the footsteps behind him. He turned around, expecting to see Sebastian, but the person he saw definitely wasn't his partner. Standing few meters away, there was a man, tall and slim, with his hair coiffed and styled perfectly, looking at Blaine with a smile on his face. Even from the distance, Blaine could see how incredibly blue his eyes were.

"Well, well, well." The stranger said, his voice high and melodious. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello there, gorgeous." Blaine replied in a low, sultry voice. "I'm almost pretty sure that we've never met, I would remember you." Blaine's eyes slowly raked the man's body up and down. "So, tell me handsome," He took a few steps forward. "Who are you and what are you doing here? Such a pretty face alone in the docks?"

The man tilted his head and looked at Blaine curiously. "I've always wondered what would it be like to meet you, Blaine Anderson." He replied, catching Blaine slightly off guard by knowing his name. The forger opened his mouth to say something, but the man kept talking. "I have to say, I'm not disappointed. Unfortunately, as delightful as this conversation is, I'm afraid it has to end."

"Why the rush, babe?" Blaine asked and winked, even though he didn't feel as confident as he did at the beginning of the conversation.

The man smirked. "I believe you have somewhere else to be."

"Is that so? And where would that be?"

"Prison."

Before Blaine had time to react, he saw people running towards him, guns in their hands, wearing the jackets with "FBI" written on them. Suddenly, his hands were grabbed from behind, his gun was ripped from the holster and after few seconds, he felt the handcuffs on his wrists.

The stranger slowly walked up to him, smiling like Christmas came earlier this year. "Blaine Anderson, you're under arrest, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you at interrogation time and at court." He turned to the man holding Blaine from behind. "Take him, Mike."

The agent started walking him to the car, when Blaine abruptly stopped and turned his head back. "At least tell me your name, gorgeous. I think I deserve to know."

The man looked at him and smiled sweetly. "Special agent Kurt Hummel. I'd say that it's nice to meet you… but I'm not a big fan of lying. But I have to say, it's really nice to catch at least one of you." With that he turned around and walked to the group of agents standing nearby.

The agent holding Blaine walked him to the car and told him to get inside. When he was sitting in the backseat, Hummel's words suddenly hit him. "_… it's really nice to catch at least one of you." _As the realization dawned on him, Blaine clenched his fists, knowing it must have been Sebastian who tipped the feds of to simply get rid of him.

"You'll pay for this, you fucking asshole." Blaine mumbled angrily under his breath and while he didn't know how yet, he knew one thing - revenge was a dish that tasted best when served cold. And Blaine would make sure that it tasted fucking delicious.

Through the window, he could see the agents getting into the cars, and he figured they would be moving soon when he saw the Asian agent, the same one that put him in the car, walk in his direction.

Leaning back and staring at the ceiling of the car, Blaine sighed. _Looks like I'll have to get used to these orange clothes after all._

* * *

**So, what do you think?**

**Read and review, let me know!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey, everyone!**

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, keep them coming! :)**

**Few things that I want to mention:**

**1) I'm aware that that's not how things work in the real world, that the FBI probably does everything differently. But this is an AU, my own universe, so anything is possible here :)**

**2) This fic is slightly, VERY SLIGHTLY White Collar inspired. There are few elements that may seem similar but the story is completely different.**

**3) If you want to see photos related to this fic, please, visit the page about Burn With you on my tumblr :) (dont-stop-believin-in-klaine)**

**That's all :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_**Five years later**_

Kurt Hummel was staring blankly at the whiteboard in the conference room. They had everything planned out. Every single detail. There was no way this operation could go wrong. And yet it did. Sebastian Smythe managed to escape, just like every time before. How? That was the question Kurt had been asking himself far too many times since the moment he started working on the Anderson/Smythe case. _Well, now it's only a Smythe case, _Kurt thought with a mild satisfaction, which faded away pretty quickly when he remembered that he'd been defeated. Again. He sighed deeply. Kurt hated feeling like a failure and that was exactly how he was feeling right now.

Before he had time to pity himself more, there was a soft knock on the door. Kurt waved, gesturing to come in, he didn't have to turn around to know exactly who it was. There were only two people in the office who dared to talk to him in situations like this.

"You okay, Kurt?"

"Fantastic."

"Sure." Santana Lopez said and Kurt could practically hear her eyes rolling. "You always are."

"Look at him, Tana." Mike Chang said with amusement. "He's literally glowing with happiness."

Kurt slowly turned around to look at them, Santana Lopez and Mike Chang, the best people in his team, his most trusted co-workers and best friends since high school.

"Remind me, why did I befriend you?" Kurt asked tiredly but with a small smile in his eyes.

"Shut up, you love us." Mike said.

He really did. They all grew up in Lima, small town in Ohio. They met in high school and became friends though Kurt still wasn't sure how the hell it happened. Santana was the captain of the cheerleaders, Mike was on a football team and Kurt was just a gay kid, bullied every day for his higher voice, his clothes, for who he was. But somehow they bonded.

"Earth to Lady Hummel!" Suddenly Kurt heard Santana's voice and saw her waving her hand in the front of his face and looking at him expectantly. "You kind of zoned out."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, really? Then what did we just say?" Mike asked looking at him skeptically.

Kurt sighed. "Fine, you've got me. "

"It's not your fault." Santana repeated. He was about to deny that but she wasn't done. "Don't even start with all this shit, Hummel. You did everything right, you know that."

"Then why's he gone? Again?" Kurt asked quietly.

"Because he's a sneaky fucking bastard. But one day he's going to screw up and then we're going to catch his sorry ass." Santana said.

"She's right, you know." Mike said. "You can't dwell on this, you have to keep going and one day, sooner or later, your time will come, you will face the same evil, and you will defeat it." He finished dramatically.

Kurt started laughing. "You've been watching The Lord of the Rings again, haven't you, Mike?"

Mike shrugged and smirked knowingly. "Maybe."

Kurt looked at his friends for a second and then made a move to grab his jacket. "Alright people, it's time to go home, isn't it?" He said cheerfully and if it was anyone else, that would have been it. But one look at their faces and Kurt knew that they hadn't bought it. Thankfully, they didn't push.

They stepped from Kurt's room and then he noticed that the lower part of the office was all dark and that there wasn't a soul in there. "Wait, where's everybody?" He asked confusedly.

Santana looked at him incredulously. "Porcelain, I hate to break it down for you but it's like 10p.m., they all went home few hours ago. Unlike you, people have lives, you know."

Whoa. Did he really spend last few hours staring at the stupid board in the conference room? And he didn't even notice all of his team leaving. Maybe his friends were right, maybe he should stop thinking about Smythe all the time and focus on the things that were going on around him. _Easier said than done_, Kurt thought gloomily as he walked downstairs and headed in the direction of the elevators. He could hear Santana and Mike following him quietly, most likely scheming how to cheer him up again.

"So…" Mike started while they were waiting for the elevator but Kurt just raised his hand. "Don't, Mike. I'm fine." He lifted his eyebrow at Santana's snort. "I am, really. Just drop it." He finished with a final "I'm the leader of this team" tone, the one he usually used only during working hours. The elevator's door opened with a quiet _ding _and they all stepped in and went down to the garage level.

"See you tomorrow, guys." Kurt said.

Santana, usually snarky and rough, showed a little bit of humanity by hugging him briefly and murmuring a quiet "take it easy, Lady" and Mike patted him on the shoulder before they all headed to their respective cars.

* * *

When Kurt stumbled into his apartment an hour later, he was even more exhausted than he'd been before he left the Bureau . How on Earth was it possible to be stuck in traffic between 10 p.m. and 11 p.m.?! Apparently everything was possible in New York.

Kurt dropped his keys and wallet on the kitchen counter, and moved to the living room area only to collapse on the couch. He was lying there for a few minutes, face down, his right arm hanging loosely from the couch, when he felt something rubbing against his hand. He peeked one eye open and saw two huge green eyes staring at him. He rolled on his back and immediately there was a black ball of fur settling itself on his chest. Satine. Kurt adopted her three years ago even though having a pet and being an FBI agent didn't seem like such a good idea. But when he saw that little black kitten miserably curled up in the cage in the pet shop he was passing by, he instantly fell in love. Satine quickly became Kurt's source of joy during quiet evenings. It was nice not to be the only breathing creature in the apartment.

Even though Kurt wanted nothing more than just lie on the couch forever, he knew that if he let himself fall asleep in the suit, he'd be incredibly pissed in the morning, plus his neck would hurt like hell. Reluctantly, he forced himself to get up, sending Satine straight to the floor. The cat gave him her best bitch glare and slowly strutted in the direction of her basket. Kurt rolled his eyes at Satine's diva-ness and stood up, stretching his arms until he heard something cracking in his neck. Wincing, he went to his bedroom to hang his slightly wrinkled suit in the closet. Usually he would do something about that but this time the state of his clothes was the last thing on his mind. It didn't happen very often, he was Kurt Hummel after all, he liked to take care of his clothes. He smiled, thinking about this young, teenage Kurt who would rather starve to dead than let anything happen to his clothes, let alone put the wrinkled ones in the closet. Well, people change. Everything changes.

Walking in the bathroom, Kurt sighed. He wasn't a teenager anymore, he hadn't been for a long time. He was an adult, an FBI agent. As he started the shower, the dark thoughts started to creep into his head again. Maybe if he'd decided to run this operation differently, maybe if he'd spent more time on figuring Smythe out… No. No, he did what he could. There was no way he could have predicted Smythe simply vanishing without any explanation. But maybe if he had double, no, triple checked everything few more times… _Stop it, Hummel. Fuck, just stop it, _Kurt scolded himself, shaking his head, and leaning his forehead to rest against the cold tiles. He should have known it would happen, the shower had always been a place where his mind started wandering and coming up with different scenarios of what he should have or could have said or done. But there was no point in doing this, Smythe was gone.

For now.

With that thought Kurt turned off the shower and headed back to his bedroom. He eyed his queen sized bed skeptically, wondering what was he thinking when he was buying it, it was way too big for him. He flipped off the light, climbed into his oversized bed and curled up under the covers, Satine joining him instantly, settling herself on the second pillow. Kurt sighed quietly, and not for the first time he wished there was another warm human body in his bed, someone who would hold him after days like this. Someone who would make everything better simply by being beside him. But with his work having someone like that seemed almost impossible.

Sometimes being an FBI agent really sucked.

* * *

When Kurt stepped of the elevator in the Bureau next morning, he was better. Not perfectly fine but definitely better. He walked across the lower floor of the office, nodding to his teammates. He smiled to Mike as he passed his desk and was about to climb the stairs leading to the upper level and his room when his friend gestured him to come closer.

"Johnson wants to see you." He said quietly.

Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Do you know why?"

He shrugged in response and shook his head. Kurt nodded and headed upstairs, trying to ignore the anxiety building up in his chest. Special Agent in Charge Richard Johnson was Kurt's direct superior, he almost didn't work in the field anymore, and usually didn't involve himself in the current cases. He trusted Kurt and all his decisions and Kurt had never given him any reason not to. That's why the request to see him seemed a little weird, maybe even suspicious. Well, he probably wanted to ask few questions about what happened the day before. No big deal. Right?

Kurt entered his room to take few deep breaths and then headed to Johnson's office. The door was partially opened so he knocked softly and peeked his head inside. He saw Johnson looking up from the files he was reading behind his desk.

"Good morning, sir. You wanted to see me?" Kurt asked tentatively.

"Oh yes, agent Hummel. Come in, sit down." Johnson said, putting the files aside. "Close the door."

Kurt did as he was told gulping slightly, grateful that he turned around to close the door so Johnson couldn't see the distress on his face. When he walked closer to his superior's desk, his face was already composed again, no sign of worry. _Years of practice as an agent come in handy in situations like this_, he thought as he sat down and waited for Johnson to start talking.

"I've heard what happened yesterday."

"I know, sir. I really am sorry for…" Kurt started to explain but Johnson raised his hand to stop him.

"I didn't call you here to blame you, agent Hummel. I've read the reports. There was nothing else you could have done, I would have done it in the same way."

Kurt released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding. So he's wasn't getting fired, that was good.

"But." The older agent continued. "I've noticed that it's not the first and not the second time. I have to admit, this Smythe is quite a scoundrel, isn't he?"

Kurt smiled inwardly at his boss' expression but managed to keep the straight face. "Yes, sir. He really is."

"That's why he needs to be locked up as soon as possible and I think we have to change the way we've been working on this." Johnson said. Kurt frowned a little but kept listening. "I'm not saying you're doing a wrong job, agent Hummel. I just think that maybe you could use some help from a person that is… a little more familiar with Smythe's methods."

"What do you mean, sir?" Kurt asked.

"I assume you remember Blaine Anderson." Kurt nodded. Of course he remembered that little bastard whom he caught five years ago. "He's in prison right now." He said.

"Yes." Johnson confirmed. "He has three years of his sentence left. But here's what you're going to do. You're going to offer Mr. Anderson a deal. In exchange for his help with capturing Smythe, we'll see what we can do about the remaining part of his sentence. During our cooperation, he'll be wearing an anklet monitor and be supervised by an agent for twenty-four hours. It means living with him and basically being joined by hip."

Kurt was staring at his boss with his eyes widened and mouth opened. "Sir… With all due respect, you… You can't be serious…" He stuttered after few minutes of dead silence. He took one calming breath and continued. "I've spend… We've spend so much time to get him. You can't just let him out! What if he flees before we catch Smythe? What if he hurts the supervising agent? What if…"

"Kurt." Johnson interrupted softly. It was so unusual for him to call the agents by their first names so it instantly shut Kurt up. "I know you've been working really hard on this case. It's been your case since the beginning. But let's face the facts. I'd much rather have Smythe locked up and Anderson's sentence commuted than have Anderson in prison and Smythe running free and killing people for fun. And to answer your question, I don't think Anderson would try anything to break the deal and run away. It would be nearly impossible with the anklet and the constant supervision. Besides, something tells me that he'd love to see Sebastian Smythe behind the bars even more than we do."

Kurt closed his eyes. Apparently Johnson had already made up his mind and even though Kurt didn't like it, he had to admit that his boss had a point. He sighed. "Can we actually do something like that?" He asked.

"I've already discussed it with the superiors and we have a permission." Johnson replied.

"Okay." Kurt said and rubbed his eyes. "Though I really feel sorry for the agent that will be responsible for Anderson, it will be like babysitting a grown-up baby."

When Johnson didn't say anything, Kurt looked up to see his boss staring at him with an amused expression on his face. Then something clicked in Kurt's head. His eyes widened in panic.

"No, no, sir, you can't, I don't have…" He started but again, he was interrupted.

"Yes, and I already talked to agent Lopez and I know that you have a very nice, empty guest room and that's really a shame that it's being wasted."

"I… I…" Kurt was speechless. _Santana Isabella Lopez, you're a dead woman._

"I'm sure you'll manage, agent Hummel. Now, you're expected at prison tomorrow morning to talk to Mr. Anderson and present him our deal. Do whatever you need to do to make him accept it. That's all, you can go back to your work now." Johnson said and Kurt could swear that he saw the old man smirking before he returned to the files he'd been reading before. Kurt nodded and got up, stiffly walked out of Johnson's office and headed to his own. After closing the door and pulling the curtains he sat by his desk and dropped his head to his hands.

He was about to make a pact with the devil.

* * *

**Any thoughts? Review and tell me!**

**K. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Happy Glee Day! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Blaine Anderson was lying on his bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. He was bored. He was fucking bored out of his mind and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, there aren't a lot of possibilities when you're locked up in fucking prison. Yes, Blaine Anderson was in prison. He'd been there for five years now and hated absolutely every day of it. He hated the clothes he had to wear, he hated the food he had to eat, he hated the people he had to interact with, he hated the cell he had to live in, he hated everything and couldn't wait for the moment when he would finally get out of there. Three years more. One thousand and ninety-five days.

Blaine groaned and ran his hands through his hair. He sat up on the bed and reached for his sketchbook. Drawing was the only thing he had left, the only form of art he was allowed in this hellhole. He flicked through the filled pages, landmarks, faceless portraits, animals, plants. He found a clear one, took the pencil in hand and hovered it above the paper.

But nothing came. He sat like that for a few minutes more, waiting for a rush of inspiration to come into his head, anything. But nothing happened.

Frustrated, he threw the notebook across the cell and watched it hit the wall. The prison was killing him slowly from the inside. If he at least had music. But… there was nothing. Blaine leaned forward and dropped his head to his hands. He'd never felt so numb and empty in his life.

He didn't know how much time had passed but suddenly there was banging on the bars of the cell door. He looked up to see the guard, looking bored, as always. "Anderson. You have a visitor."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. A visitor? That was new. He stood up and walked to the opened door. The guard searched him briefly and Blaine rolled his eyes. _It's not like I'm going to stab you with a pencil, you moron. _They started walking but instead of the usual visiting area, the guard led him to one of the separate rooms, the ones that the lawyers usually used if they needed complete privacy to talk to their clients. The guard opened the door and gestured at Blaine to come in.

He stepped into the room and vaguely registered the sound of closing the door. His attention was drawn to another man who'd already been in the room. He was looking through the window and standing backwards so Blaine couldn't see his face but he had a strange feeling that this man seemed familiar.

"Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Anderson?" The visitor asked.

And Blaine knew this voice. He knew this voice all too well. When he didn't move, the man slowly turned around. Coiffed hair, pale skin, slight smirk and these piercing, blue eyes. He hadn't changed, not even a bit. "Fancy meeting you again." He spoke calmly.

"Sounds familiar." Blaine said quietly. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Special Agent Kurt Hummel?" He added snidely, slightly drawling man's title and name.

The agent didn't respond, instead, he moved from the place beside the window, and sat on one of the chairs. He propped his elbows on the table and looked at Blaine expectantly. After few moments of stillness and silence, the forger plopped down on the other chair, crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows mockingly.

Kurt almost rolled his eyes but managed to stop himself, figuring it wouldn't do him any good. "I see you remember me." He said nonchalantly.

Blaine scoffed. "Please. It's not that hard to remember the man who put you in the hellhole like this." _Especially if he looks like a fucking model._

"You're not enjoying your stay then?" Kurt quipped with a smirk, he couldn't help it.

The anger flashed through Blaine's face. He leaned towards Kurt. "Why are you here, Hummel?" He asked, his tone low and dangerous. "Because if it's only to boast about catching me and being a wonderful superhero agent, then I am really sorry to disappoint, but I'm not even remotely interested in that conversation and I'd much rather stare at the ceiling in my cell than talk to you. So unless you have something else to say-" He got up slowly. "-we're done here."

Kurt had to admit, it was going to be interesting. "Relax, and sit back down." He said calmly and waited for Blaine to sit before continuing. "We have an offer for you. You have three years of yours sentence left, am I correct?" Blaine nodded wordlessly. "Well, if you agreed to the deal, maybe we could do something about that."

"What deal exactly?" Blaine asked immediately, eyeing Kurt suspiciously.

"We are currently working on the case that we believe your… experience would help solve."

Blaine scoffed. "I'd rather die in here than cooperate with the feds that put me here in the first place. So, if you forgive me…"

"It's about Sebastian Smythe." Kurt interrupted him. Blaine stilled and Kurt could see his whole posture tensing. "We've been trying to get him since we caught you. No success so far."

"What makes you think that I'd want to help with that?" Blaine asked, his face and tone calm and composed. But inside he was livid. So this bastard was still out there. Sometimes he wondered if Sebastian had been killed somewhere and he truly hoped he hadn't. Not because he cared, oh no. That son of a bitch deserved something way more painful than death. Blaine wanted nothing more than to see him locked up, he would go crazy in here, he would lose his mind…

"Come on, Blaine." Kurt's voice broke through his thoughts. "I know you're not stupid, far from it actually."

Blaine smirked slightly at the compliment. "Oh, really? I'm flattered, _Kurt_." He said, basically purring agent's name.

Kurt ignored him and continued. "Five years ago we got a call from an anonymous caller who said you'd be at the docks around 5 p.m. After capturing you, we went through your phone and found a text message from Smythe, asking you to meet him at the docks at 5 p.m. Just like the tip said. At first it seemed that Smythe ran away when he realized that FBI had caught you. But we had been monitoring the area from 4 p.m., to 6 p.m., just in case. And I know for sure that Smythe had never showed up on the docks. So, for me it's pretty obvious who the anonymous caller was." Kurt paused. "And I think it's obvious for you, too."

Blaine hadn't move an inch since Kurt started talking. He sat there with his fists and jaw clenched but his hazel eyes showed no emotions. "What's your point?" He asked, his tone deathly neutral.

"You want revenge." Kurt said simply. "And it's understandable. Why wouldn't you? He destroyed your life. The question is; how much do you want him to suffer? Because I'm sure that you wouldn't want him dead. It would end way too fast, wouldn't it? No, he deserves so much more, he…"

"Enough." Blaine interrupted harshly. He stared right into Kurt's eyes, his own dark and suddenly full of anger.

"I thought so." Kurt chuckled quietly, well aware that he was currently playing with fire. "So, why don't you stop shooting daggers at me and listen to what I have to say?"

Blaine remained silent, so Kurt took it as the sign to continue. "If you graciously decide to help us, you'll have to wear an anklet monitor and an FBI agent wouldn't leave your side, which means you'd be living with them and you wouldn't be able to go anywhere without them or at least without their approval."

Blaine's posture changed a little and something shifted in his eyes, but Kurt couldn't quite pinpoint what it was so he made a note to himself to analyze it later. "You'd be working with us on Smythe's case, unless you'd be only pretending to help, then you're coming straight back here."

That being said, Kurt leaned back on the chair to observe Blaine. He looked different than at the beginning of this conversation. He wasn't glaring at Kurt anymore, he was currently looking at the wall on his right, looking much younger and lost in thought.

"What's the catch?" Blaine asked quietly after few minutes of silence.

"There's no catch." Kurt sat up straighter and shrugged. "Why would there be?"

Blaine looked at him incredulously. "You can't expect me to believe that you're going to get me out of this hell, let me live in a normal world and then maybe reduce my sentence only in exchange for help with catching the little prick that Smythe is." Blaine spit the name of his former partner like a poison. "There has to be a catch, there's _always_ a catch." He finished darkly, turning his gaze back to the wall.

Kurt scoffed at that. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but, you see, in my world deals are made to be kept. And even if I'm not the biggest fan of this one, I'll keep it. I'd say to trust me but we both know it's not going to happen, so looks like you have to either take a risk or go back to your _fascinating_ life in your cozy cell."

After another few moments of silence, which were starting to piss Kurt off to be honest, Blaine slowly turned his head him to him and his demeanor was, once again, changed. He looked at Kurt piercingly with shining hazel eyes, wearing this arrogant smirk that Kurt hated the most.

"Okay, gorgeous." He said as his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Since you've come all the way here and presented me _such_ a generous offer…"

Blaine started leaning forward, still keeping his gaze on Kurt. "I think you've got yourself a deal." He breathed basically in Kurt's face. After that he leaned back and studied Kurt's expression. He had to admit, teasing Hummel was definitely the most entertaining thing that had happened to him since being caught, so he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to practice his skills and have a little fun.

In the meantime, Kurt was silently thanking God he didn't believe in for the self-control he managed to maintain and for stopping the involuntary shiver that threatened to run through his body when he felt Blaine's hot breath on his lips. _Don't let it affect you, don't give him the satisfaction_. He didn't avert his gaze from the forger and gave himself a mental high five for keeping his face expressionless.

"Excellent." Kurt said with a polite smile, his voice sure and steady. He reached to his briefcase and pulled out a folder with some documents. After some searching, he took out few sheets of paper, and moved them towards Blaine along with the pen. "I'm going to need you to sign these."

Blaine took the documents, and started going through them, leaning comfortably at the back of his chair. Kurt looked at him slightly shocked. Apparently, legal stuff was another area that Blaine Anderson was familiar with. After few minutes of reading Blaine glanced up at him and smirked, _again._

"Don't look so surprised. You assumed correctly, I'm not going to trust you." He said with the amusement and went back to reading. Kurt wondered briefly if Blaine was only messing with him or if he actually was checking the content of the contract. Before he had time to dwell on it, the forger sat up straighter and took the pen to sign the documents.

"Everything looks fine." He said, and pushed the signed papers to Kurt. "Though I'm quite surprised that our wonderfully strict and boring FBI agreed to something like that."

"You're not the only one." Kurt muttered quietly before he could stop himself. He quickly put the documents back to his briefcase. "Okay, so looks like that's all." He said, standing up. "You'll be picked up tomorrow morning."

He headed to the exit and was by the door when Blaine spoke. "By whom?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "By the agent you'll be living with." He answered after a short pause without turning around and exited the room. He nodded to the guard but before walking away he could have sworn he heard a low chuckle and Blaine's voice from behind the door that made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Then see you tomorrow, pretty boy."

* * *

After talking to the prison governor and informing him about the details of Anderson's departure, Kurt headed back to his car. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he released the breath he'd seemed to be holding since his encounter with Blaine. He was exhausted after barely forty-five minutes of playing games with the forger and it would only get worse when he'd have to share his apartment with him. He groaned loudly at the thought.

Murdering Santana and dumping her body in the Hudson had never sounded more appealing.

Kurt sighed and checked his watch. It was still too early to head back home, he had to make an appearance at the Bureau so he could at least pretend to be working. He winced when he remembered the stack of paperwork waiting for him on his desk and he still hadn't written the report about the Smythe fiasco. Wonderful. There's nothing better than describing your huge failure in details for your boss to read. _Even if said boss doesn't think of it as a failure, still._

Sighing, Kurt started the engine and drove to the work. After leaving the car in the underground parking, he decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to get something for lunch and that the paperwork would still be in his office in 30 minutes.

He walked out of the building and headed to his favorite coffee shop. "Piu Bella Cosa" was placed just around the corner and was owned by an Italian family. It was small and cozy, unlike the loud Starbucks Kurt's colleagues seemed to be obsessed with. Kurt opened the door and stepped in, the scent of fresh coffee and muffins immediately hitting him and making him realize how hungry he actually was. He walked to the counter and smiled to Mary, the girl that usually worked at the time Kurt was getting lunch.

"Hello, Kurt!" She greeted him cheerfully. "The usual?"

"As always." He answered with a smile and took out his wallet. "I'm just as boring as that."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true at all!" She said, and winked playfully. Kurt sometimes wondered how she managed to be this chirpy every day. He laughed and shook his head. He paid and moved to the other end of the counter when his phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. _Johnson._

"Good afternoon, sir." He answered formally.

"_How did it go?"_ His boss asked right away, without wasting time for any introductions.

Kurt took a deep breath. "He agreed."

"_Good. When are you picking him up?"_

"Tomorrow morning, sir."

"_I'm expecting you both at the office day after tomorrow. The sooner he starts working on the case, the better."_

"Of course, sir." Kurt said, hoping his boss wouldn't hear the bitterness in his voice.

"_Alright. Well done, agent Hummel. I assume it wasn't easy to get him to agree. Good job."_

"Thank you, sir." Kurt said quietly and then Johnson hung up.

As soon as the call ended, he heard his name being called. He picked up the tray with his food and coffee, and looked around to find a table. With relief, he noticed that his favorite one, next to the window, was empty. He tiredly plopped down on the chair and took a sip of his grand non-fat mocha. He sank his teeth in his sandwich with tomato and mozzarella and swallowed down the moan of pleasure that was threating to leave his throat. This sandwich was a pure heaven and Kurt, as a fan number one of the Italian food, definitely approved. In moments like this, he wished he could abandon all the worries, and simply live in that little coffee shop. Just as he was wondering if there was any way to elope with his delicious sandwich and get married in Vegas, his phone buzzing with a new text pulled him out of his reverie.

**Santana: **_**The word on the street is that you're getting a hot piece of ass to live with you.**_

Kurt huffed in annoyance. That evil woman. What was it that made her think it would be a good thing to make him live with the criminal, Kurt had no idea, but he'd find out and give her a piece of his mind, that's for sure. But knowing Santana Lopez, she had no ulterior motives, she was just being a bitch.

**Kurt: **_**We're talking about it when I get to the Bureau. **_

After sending the message, he quickly finished the sandwich and drank the rest of his coffee. Standing up, he smiled to the Mary who waved at him cheerfully from behind the counter and then stepped outside of the coffee shop. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of a cool fall air. It was an early October, Kurt's absolutely favourite time of the year. He smiled slightly as he felt the light gust of the wind and with that smile on his face he made his way back to the work.

As it turned out, Santana wasn't there when he arrived. As Mike informed him, she was out on a stake-out and wouldn't be back in the Bureau until the next day. _How convenient, _Kurt thought bitterly, shutting the door to his office. He sat behind the desk and ominously eyed the pile of papers lying in front of him. With a sigh he started working, letting it take his mind of everything else.

* * *

It wasn't before he was at his apartment, lying in his bed with Satine snuggled by his side, when Blaine Anderson's words came back to him.

_Then see you tomorrow, pretty boy._

* * *

**Please, review?**

**Have a great day! :)**

**K.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello again! I'm sorry that it's been so long since I updated but exams and studying got in the way. But now, finally, I'm done, so I hope I manage to update regularly :)**

**As always, thanks to my awesome betas, Shy and Ida :) Oh, and happy Glee day!**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

If anyone who didn't know Blaine looked at him after he got back to his cell, they wouldn't have noticed anything unusual. The same confident posture, the same faint slightly mocking smirk on his face. What they wouldn't see was the little glint that appeared in his eyes, barely visible to average people. But it was there. It was there because inside, Blaine was ecstatic. He wouldn't do anything about that, not yet; he'd wait for the darkness to engulf the cells and to cover him completely. Only then he'd let it go, let the happiness overtake him, just for a little while. But not before then. Because in this world, showing your emotions to the others was a mistake, one that could cost you your life.

So Blaine waited.

He did what he'd always done during the day. Stare at the ceiling, eat, read. What else can you do in prison? Finally, when the night came, Blaine eagerly got up from the bed and walked to the little, barred window, and looked up to the tiny piece of starry sky he was able to see. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd be out there. A big, wolfish grin slowly appeared on his face. Blaine Anderson was coming back. He wasn't entirely sure how his life would look from now on, but it didn't bother him that much. For now, he had only one goal.

Do whatever it took to bring Sebastian Smythe down.

* * *

When the morning came, Blaine had been wide awake since the moment he opened his eyes. He wasn't exactly a morning person but today was different. He could feel the excitement building up in his chest, and he had to stop himself from counting the minutes until he would be picked up by the one and only Special Agent Kurt Hummel.

Blaine smirked devilishly at the thought of the FBI agent. When he asked who would pick him up, the short pause and the agent's curt reply were enough for Blaine to know that it would be none other than Kurt Hummel himself. Which meant that he'd be his supervising agent, which in turn meant they'd be living together. And Blaine simply couldn't wait to make Hummel's life a living hell.

Blaine didn't have to wait too long for the procedure of his release to begin. He didn't have a lot to take, so when the guard came to collect him he grabbed his notebooks and pencils, and that was basically it. He hoped that the personal things he had with him when he was captured, were still somewhere in the prison storage or wherever they kept this stuff. The guard led him to the small room where he was handed a pile of clothes. _Oh, goodbye then, my lovely orange suit, _Blaine thought happily and then noticed that those were his old clothes, the ones he was wearing on this fatal day, five years ago. He smiled slightly when he saw his old leather jacket, he really missed wearing it.

Just as he finished getting dressed, two men entered the room.

"Ready for the last of your accessories?" One of them asked, holding up the black piece of metal.

The forger nodded reluctantly and pulled up the jeans on his right leg, uncovering the ankle. The man bent down and quickly clasped the monitor. Blaine moved his foot experimentally. It felt… weird. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Blaine could feel the cold metal against his skin and the slight pressure of the device. It would take a while to get used to it.

Suddenly, the other man handed him a box. "There are your things you had with you on the day you were arrested." He said. "No phone though, it's been confiscated by the FBI. And, of course, no gun."

"Of course." Blaine muttered, looking into the contents of the box. There wasn't much. Only the keys to his apartment, his wallet. With a relief he noticed the silver ring, lying on the bottom. He pulled it out and examined it carefully, it seemed unharmed. He placed it on his finger and put the other items in his pockets, and looked at the men expectantly.

They led him through the different halls until they reached the courtyard. They passed it quickly and soon reached the front prison door.

"Your ride is waiting outside." One of the men said and nodded to the guard standing beside the door. Without a word, he opened the door.

Blaine threw one last short glance at the buildings behind them and then stepped outside, for the first time in five years. The door behind him closed quietly. Tentatively, he took a few steps forward. Before he had time to process the thought that he was finally free, he noticed the black car parked a few feet away. But it wasn't the car that made him stop in his tracks.

There, leaning against the car, was Kurt Hummel. The agent was typing something on his phone and hadn't noticed Blaine yet, so he used that moment to take a good look at the man. He was wearing tight, dark jeans which made his stretched legs look amazingly long, and the navy coat that perfectly accentuated his slim waist. His hair was flawlessly styled, the pale skin was almost glowing in the sun beams, and it all made Blaine remember the first thought that crossed his mind when he saw Kurt Hummel for the first time.

_Damn, he's hot._

Had Hummel not been the damn FBI agent that put him in jail and the man Blaine hated almost as much as he hated Sebastian Smythe, he probably wouldn't have hesitated even for a second about taking him somewhere and having his way with him. Unfortunately, that was not an option. _What a shame, to waste such a good fuck, _Blaine thought with a slight frustration, but he quickly pushed that feeling away. It wouldn't do him any good.

He crossed his arms and straightened his posture. "Are we going to go anytime soon or…?" He asked.

Kurt's head snapped up, and suddenly Blaine was faced with a piercing stare of the blue, cold eyes.

"You took your time." The agent said in a bored tone, pocketing his phone.

"I'm sorry; I was busy picking the jewelry." Blaine said mockingly, gesturing the ankle monitor. "Couldn't decide what to wear."

"Well, it certainly fits you." Kurt retorted snidely and pushed himself from where he was leaning against the car. "Get in, we have a lot to do." He said as he opened the door and sat behind the steering wheel.

"Bossy." Blaine muttered and made his way to the passenger door. He slowly got inside, satisfied when he caught, with the corner of his eye, Kurt's fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. "By the way, I'm gonna need your exact address. Oh, and your phone."

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, arching his eyebrow.

"I need my stuff. I have to call my friend and tell him to bring it to your place." Blaine said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Your stuff?" Kurt asked incredulously. "What stuff? You _just_ got out of prison, where did you…" He stopped abruptly. "We've never found your apartment." He said slowly.

"And people think nothing can ever hide from you, the FBI, the brightest minds." Blaine snorted. "But in reality you're just babes in the woods, unable to do anything right by your own." He finished quietly, distain lacing his voice.

Kurt gritted his teeth and slowly breathed out through his nose. How was he supposed to survive living with this man without killing him; he had no idea.

"Are you done?" He asked, forcing himself to sound like he was already bored by the conversation. "And back to your request or I should rather say, your demand, you're not giving my address to your buddy. The last thing I need is another… suspicious, probably crime related individual to know my personal address."

Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt wasn't quite done yet. "But, know my mercy, we can stop by your place and you can take your things."

"If you think that I'm going to show you where I used to live, then you're either incredibly stupid or you think that _I _am incredibly stupid." Blaine retorted. "You were right yesterday – I don't trust you. There's no way I'm taking you to my apartment."

Kurt threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're ridiculous! Why do you have to treat everything as a conspiracy against you?! Guess what, Anderson, not everything revolves around you!"

Blaine watched Kurt in amusement as he breathed heavily after his angry outburst. "Are you done?" He mimicked Kurt's earlier question. "God, you're such a drama queen." He chuckled, ignoring the fire that was literally blazing from Kurt's eyes. "Fine, let me be the first one to offer a compromise. You give me your phone, I call my friend, and we meet with him somewhere in public. How does that sound, _roomie_?" Blaine said, snickering slightly at the term.

Kurt closed his eyes. From the beginning he knew this wouldn't be easy. Both he and Anderson were as stubborn as a mule, but if he wanted to make this cooperation work, he had to find a way to compromise with the forger and this seemed like a good start. He handed Blaine his phone without a word and then his thoughts wandered back to the situation he had been put in. It was a nightmare, and it had been only what, 10 minutes?

Kurt groaned inwardly. All he wanted to do was to lie on his couch, maybe snuggle with Satine, and watch some trashy shows on his tv. _God knows when I'll have a chance to do it, _he thought bitterly. Faintly, he could hear Anderson making plans with a guy named Wes, and Kurt couldn't decide if he wanted the time to fly or to crawl. On the one hand, he wanted to drive around for hours, anything to postpone going to his apartment, and making it no longer his private, personal space. On the other hand, he wanted to get it over already, start working, find Smythe and get rid of Anderson as soon as possible. His internal struggle was interrupted by Blaine giving him his phone back.

"Let's go. I'll tell you where to drive." He said while he fastened his seat belt. He laughed loudly when he saw the dubious look Kurt gave him. "Relax, pretty boy. I'm not going to lead you to some dark alley and murder you."

"Don't call me that." Kurt muttered, and started the engine.

After following Blaine's directions they ended up in a parking lot at the back of a supermarket, actually not that far from Kurt's place. When they arrived, there was already a silver car waiting for them. As they pulled up, an Asian man got out and smiled widely. When Kurt stopped the engine, he looked to Blaine and, for a second, he could see the small smile on his face and the way his eyes lit up a little. It lasted shorter than a blink of an eye and when Blaine turned to him, his expression was neutral and calculated, as always. At first, Kurt intended to go with him but after seeing that little change… "I'll wait for you in the car." He said before he had time to change his mind.

He saw the mild surprise in Blaine's eyes, but then the forger shrugged and got out of the car. "As you wish, gorgeous." Kurt's expression clouded at the name, but the door was shut closed before he had the time to snap.

Blaine made his way to the man waiting by the silver car and when he was sure that Hummel could only see his back, he smiled widely. He opened his arms and the man basically crashed him with the force he flew himself into him.

"It's good to see you, Wes." He said, hugging the man tightly.

"I missed you, you know." Wes mumbled in his shoulder. They parted and suddenly the Asian slapped him hard on the head. "You son of a bitch." He added with a grin.

"Hey!" Blaine exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"For going to prison for five years, you bastard!" This time, Wes punched him in the arm.

"Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" Blaine shouted with a smile, raising his hands up. "You know it wasn't exactly my fault."

"I know." Wes said darkly. "I swear, if I ever see that motherfucker… He's going to wish he never met me."

"Hold your horses, Wesley, at least for now." Blaine said. "I guess I should tell you how I got out from jail, huh?"

Wes looked at him curiously. Seeing Blaine's hesitance, he frowned. "Blaine. Who's the guy in the car?"

Blaine looked down and sighed. "He's a fed." He heard Wes gasp, but continued. "They offered me a deal. They want me to help them catch Sebastian in exchange for getting my sentence commuted."

"That's… actually not that bad." Wes said slowly. "And they let you out, just like that?"

"I'm wearing an ankle monitor." Blaine said. "And they're making me live with this guy." He added, gesturing at the car Kurt was waiting in.

After knowing Blaine for so many years, Wes didn't miss the hatred in his friend's voice and the steely look that flashed in his eyes. "Why do you hate him so much?" He asked, and seeing Blaine raising his eyebrow, he crossed his arms and smiled. "Come on, Blaine, I know all of your faces and tones. What did he do to you?"

"He's the one that put me behind bars." Blaine said with a murderous expression. "Plus, he's a jerk with a stick up his ass."

Wes had seen this look way to many times and it usually meant nothing good. He shook his head and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid, Blaine." He warned. "It's your chance, don't blow it."

Blaine put a hand on his heart. "Wesley, you wound me, you act like you don't know me at all!" He exclaimed in a fake surprise.

"I do know you, that's precisely why I'm worried." Wes muttered.

Blaine laughed loudly and patted his friend's back. "Come on, give me my things."

The two men walked to the car and Wes opened the trunk. "Your emergency bags, they're all here. You're taking everything?"

"Well, not the one with the weapons, that's for sure." Blaine said as he went through the things in the trunk, hoping Hummel wouldn't choose that moment to walk over and check on them. He took out two big duffel bags and looked back to Wes. "Thank you, Wes." He said sincerely.

"Anytime." Wes said and stepped closer to Blaine to hug him. "Your babysitter seems to be getting impatient." He said gesturing slightly to the car where Kurt was staring at them intently. "Please, please, don't get in too much trouble?" He whispered teasingly.

Blaine patted him on the back, pulled away and winked with a smirk. "I make no promises. I'll see you soon, Wes."

With one last smile, he grabbed the bags and headed towards where the FBI agent was waiting for him. When Kurt saw him coming, he exited the car.

"I'll have to go through them." He said when Blaine walked closer, gesturing to the bags. Blaine nodded wordlessly and put them inside the trunk. He left it open and leaned on the car, looking at Kurt expectantly. The agent rolled his eyes and bowed down to examine the bags. He searched them quickly, finding nothing but clothes and some art supplies, nothing special or dangerous. He closed the trunk. "Everything looks fine." He said shortly and both men moved to the car door to get in the car. Kurt eyed Blaine briefly, but it didn't seem like the forger was going to say anything, so he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, swiftly joining the traffic.

The ride was spent in silence and it didn't last even half as long as Kurt hoped it would. Too soon he was parking the car on the street next to the block he lived in; too soon it was time to go inside. Kurt got out of the car and quickly took a deep breath and turned around, only to find Blaine already pulling the bags from the opened trunk. When he was done, Kurt locked the car and started walking to the building entrance, Blaine following right behind him. He didn't offer his help with carrying the baggage, but Anderson seemed to be doing just fine. Kurt nodded to the doorman, making a mental note to come down later and inform him about the man that would temporarily live with him, therefore he would show up there very often. They took the elevator and when they stepped outside on the right floor, Kurt broke the silence.

"Are you allergic to cats?" He asked without looking at Blaine, too busy searching for the keys in his satchel. _Please, say yes, it would be so much fun to watch you suffer._

"No?" Blaine said just as they stopped outside Kurt's apartment.

_What a pity, _Kurt thought as he opened the door. They entered the small hall and Kurt gestured on the door to the next room, indicating Blaine to go in. The agent himself leaned on the door frame and watched his new roommate look around somewhat curiously, when suddenly a loud "meow" echoed in the apartment and Satine appeared in the middle of the room, coming seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oh, who do we have here?" Blaine said quietly, taking a few steps in the direction of the cat.

Kurt smirked devilishly. Satine _hated_ new people, anyone who tried to touch her without being around for at least a few weeks, usually ended up with multiple scratches on their hands, sometimes even face if they were persistent. But Anderson didn't really need to know that.

Meanwhile, Blaine crouched in front of Satine and slowly reached out his hand, stopping it right in front of her. Kurt waited for the inevitable attack, but to his great surprise (and yes, disappointment), after the moment of staring, instead of pouncing, Satine came closer, and hesitantly sniffed Blaine's hand. He watched her, still as a statue, and chuckled in amusement when the cat started purring and rubbing her head against his palm. He slowly lifted her up and got up from the floor, scratching slightly behind her ears.

"Hello there, beautiful." He muttered lowly. "I guess I have your approval then?"

Kurt stared at the scene in front of him in astonishment. Blaine must have sensed him staring because, suddenly, he lifted his head and looked right back at Kurt. When he noticed his eyes widened in surprise, he raised his eyebrow derisively.

Kurt clenched his jaw. For a second, he forgot just how annoying Anderson's expressions and behavior were. "I see you and Satine are already acquainted." He said, moving in the direction of the guest room.

"Satine? That's an interesting choice of name for a cat." The forger said, still petting the delighted cat in his arms.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's from…"

"Moulin Rouge." Blaine interrupted. Kurt turned his head abruptly, the surprise evident in his eyes. Blaine snorted at his expression. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Hummel."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then he changed his mind and simply gestured at the door to the guest room. "That's where you'll be staying."

Blaine carefully put Satine down, grabbed his bags and crossed the living room to stand in the door of his, for the time being, room. Kurt was about to make up some excuse to leave him alone and get a moment for himself when he noticed that something wasn't right. Blaine's whole posture was stiff, his fists were clenched tightly at the bags' straps and he was staring intently at something in the room. Kurt moved closer and followed his line of sight. The object that seemed to drown the forger's attention was an old piano, the one that belonged to his mother and was put in the guest room because of the lack of space in the living room.

"Is it tuned?" Blaine asked quietly. Kurt looked at him for a moment, slightly confused by the sudden change in Blaine's demeanor, though really, he should have been used to that by now.

"Actually, yes, it is." He replied slowly. He didn't miss something flashing through Blaine's eyes, another emotion he yet had to decipher. "I don't really have much time to use it though, it could use some practice so..." He finished the sentence with a wave of his hand in the direction of the piano. Blaine was still staring at the instrument so he backed out of the room. "I'll leave you for now then."

He went to his bedroom and closed the door. He leaned against it and took a few deep breaths. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, Anderson's mood swings were more unpredictable than a pregnant woman's, but he would figure it out. The agent rubbed his temples tiredly and wanted nothing more than to drop himself on the bed to wallow in his misery when he realized that he was still wearing his coat. He sighed and exited his room and made his way to the hall. After hanging the coat, he walked back to the living room, noticing Satine lying in a sun spot. _You little traitor, _Kurt thought bitterly. He stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. Having a criminal in his apartment made him feel uneasy and he couldn't exactly act all relaxed like he used to when he was home. No, now he had to be in a full agent mode and have his guard up all the time. And the worst thing was that he had absolutely no idea what to expect.

He walked to the bookcase and looked at the photos sitting there. He took the one of his parents, taken on their wedding day. He smiled softly as he traced their smiling faces with his fingers. He sighed sadly and put the frame back on the shelf.

"I wish you were here." Kurt whispered quietly.

* * *

Blaine couldn't explain what happened to him when he saw the piano. The sudden feeling of nostalgia and sadness caught him so off guard, and to be honest, he was glad, if not slightly surprised, that Hummel didn't push and simply left him alone.

After the agent closed the door behind him, Blaine quickly unpacked his things to the empty drawers and shelves, pushed the empty bags under the bed, and looked at the piano again. He would never admit it to anyone, but music used to be his dream. Even though his life took him in a slightly different direction, it had always been a big part of him. With a smile, he remembered his old piano, still waiting safely for him in his apartment. He took a step closer to the instrument, but something was stopping him. He shook his head and walked to the bed. He lied down, stared at the ceiling and kept thinking.

_What are you afraid of?_

* * *

**Review? :)**

**K. xx**


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm back!**

**I'm sorry it took me so long. Unfortunately, studying law and writing don't get along very well, hence the long wait. But to make up for it – here's the longest chapter so far :)**

**Please, go to my tumblr – there's a page about Burn With You and there are some pics of things featured in this chapter (my tumblr is dont-stop-believin-in-klaine, the link is in my bio).**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Kurt groaned tiredly as he looked at the alarm clock standing on the nightstand. The bright red numbers mercilessly showed that it was 5:07am. Last time he checked, it was 5am, but Kurt could have sworn that it felt like it had been at least 30 minutes since then. He sighed. The night had been simply awful. At first, he couldn't fall asleep, the thought of a stranger sleeping or doing God knows what in the next room was continuously lingering on his mind. When he managed to finally doze off it wasn't much of a relief. The sleep he fell into was restless, so when he woke up at 4:30am, he wasn't feeling even slightly more rested than before going to bed. After tossing around, he finally gave up the hope of getting any more sleep and slowly sat up in the bed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and got up in compliance.

After brushing his teeth in the bathroom, he headed to the kitchen and started the coffee machine. He leaned on the counter as he waited and let his mind go back to the previous evening. Blaine didn't say anything after he left him in his room to unpack; he didn't react when Kurt informed him later that they would be leaving at 8am. He was simply lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, so Kurt left him alone and retreated to his own bedroom. Later in the evening, he could hear Blaine walking into the bathroom, then returning to his room. Other than that, no signs of the forger.

Kurt poured the coffee in his favorite mug and settled in an armchair. He wasn't awake enough to focus on reading or watching anything, so he just leaned back, closed his eyes and sipped his coffee, letting the warmth spread through his body. He sighed in contentment. It was his chance to enjoy the peace and quiet, at least for a short while, and he was going to make the most of it.

* * *

Blaine's eyes snapped open when he heard a sound coming from somewhere in the apartment. It sounded suspiciously like a coffee machine so he glanced at the clock standing on the nightstand.

5:20am.

Blaine groaned quietly. If Hummel was such a morning person, this would be a lot harder than he anticipated. There was no way he was going to fall asleep again, he'd always been a light sleeper and being in prison made him even more sensitive to even the slightest sound. He sat up in bed and ran his fingers through his hair. His gaze fell on the piano standing in the corner of the room. He could almost feel it pulling him, but one thing was still holding him back. It was simple. He was afraid of getting lost in it again, having his passion back, only to have it ripped from him again. He had no guarantee of never going back to prison and this, music, was something that he missed the most. Not painting, drawing or sketching, but playing, the lack of it almost drove him insane. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. He missed it _so much. _

Abruptly, he jumped off the bed and crossed the small distance between the bed and the piano in two long strides. He sat on the bench and took a deep breath, his fingers hovering above the keyboard. With a small smile, he started playing the only melody that seemed right at the moment.

He was done being afraid.

* * *

Kurt was suddenly pulled out from his reverie by the sound of music. Someone was playing the piano. He was confused at first, but after a while he realized that the sound was coming from his own apartment, from behind the closed door of Anderson's bedroom, to be precise. And, Kurt noticed in astonishment, he was _good._ Really, really good. And the melody he was playing? It sounded familiar, Kurt was sure he'd heard the song before, but couldn't quite place it at the moment. But it was beautiful. It sounded so raw and passionate, like it was very close to Blaine's heart, and for a second Kurt felt bad for somehow intruding such an intimate moment, but then he remembered that it was _Anderson_, the guy he hated, and he really shouldn't care about his feelings and he definitely shouldn't feel guilty at all… But he still did and he couldn't explain why. Kurt shook his head, he was being ridiculous.

With the last note, the playing stopped and Kurt heard the bedroom door open and the shuffle of footsteps. He slowly released his breath when he heard the bathroom door close, which meant he still had a few minutes to compose and steel himself for whatever this day would bring. After a few minutes, Blaine appeared, yawning, from the little hall between their bedrooms and the bathroom. Kurt turned in his direction, but whatever he was going to say, suddenly flew out of his mind, the words dying in his throat. Blaine was leaning against the doorframe, shirtless, the sweatpants hanging lowly and loosely on his hips. His black curls were a mess and his face was covered with stubble. Kurt took in his broad chest and arms, and the V-line, barely above the hem of the sweats… Suddenly, he heard the quiet snort and his eyes snapped up to Blaine's unimpressed face.

"See something you like, pretty boy?" He asked, with his eyebrows raised.

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Not particularly." He said, recovering quickly. "And don't call me that." He added, though he figured it was pointless, Anderson never seemed to do what he asked for.

Blaine shrugged without saying a word and yawned again. Kurt looked at him with amusement. "Someone's grumpy in the morning." He said mockingly.

"Well, _someone_ woke me up." Blaine grumbled annoyingly. "Do you always get up that early? Because if you do, we're gonna have a fucking problem."

"My apologies." Kurt said, not really meaning it. "But to answer your question, no, I don't."

"Thank god." Blaine mumbled, moving to the kitchen area. The agent watched him maneuvering easily around the kitchen, like he'd been doing it for years, and Kurt hated how quickly he accommodated, how on ease the forger was while he still couldn't feel right in his _own apartment_, for God's sake. That's why he decided to retreat to his bedroom, so he didn't have to face Anderson for any longer than absolutely necessary.

"We're leaving at 8." He said curtly as he got up from the armchair.

"Yes, sir." Blaine saluted with a mocking grin and it took all the willpower Kurt could muster not to punch him in the face. He said nothing and walked back to his room, unaware of Blaine leaning on the counter and watching him in amusement.

When he emerged from the bedroom right before 8am, Blaine was already there, dressed in dark wash jeans and plain red t-shirt, his black leather jacket lying on the couch. He was slowly strolling along the shelves and watching the photos placed there and, to Kurt's chagrin, holding Satine in his arms, petting her while the cat purred in delight. When he heard Kurt entering the living room, he gently put her on the floor and moved to the couch to throw his jacket on.

"Before you even suggest it, I'm not wearing a suit." He said when he noticed Kurt eyeing him disdainfully. The agent shook his head, huffing in annoyance and walked in the direction of the hall.

Blaine smirked and shamelessly raked his eyes over the agent's body before he disappeared behind the door. The man was a pain in the ass, but speaking of ass, he had a _great_ one, so the least Blaine could do was appreciate the view.

"You coming?" He heard Kurt calling from the hall.

"Sure thing, gorgeous." Blaine said, grinning in satisfaction when he could basically hear Hummel gritting his teeth in order to stop himself from snapping. _He's making it so easy, _he thought with joy and followed Kurt out of the apartment.

_Time to make FBI at least a little less helpless._

* * *

Apparently, the news about FBI's newest asset had spread around, because as soon as they exited the elevator and entered the office, the eyes of other agents immediately fell on Anderson. Most of them were eyeing him with curiosity, but Kurt didn't miss the sight of a few agents shaking their heads in disapproval. He glared at them warningly and turned to one of the younger agents standing nearby.

"Are Chang and Lopez already in?" He asked.

"They're waiting in the conference room, boss." The woman said.

Kurt nodded and gestured at the forger to follow him when he headed to the stairs leading to the upper part of the office. Noticing few agents still gawking at them, he rolled his eyes.

"Don't you have work to do?" He asked loudly without turning around as he and Blaine climbed the stairs. He heard a hasty scurrying behind him and chuckled, but a quiet snort coming from Blaine quickly brought him back to Earth.

"Problem?" He asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope." Blaine said, shaking his head with a smirk.

Kurt shot him an annoyed glare and said nothing as he opened the door to the conference room. Mike and Santana were chatting at the end of the table and their heads snapped up when they heard the two men entering the room.

Kurt smiled dryly at them. "Guys, meet Blaine Anderson." He said, hoping that the dislike wasn't too evident in his voice. He turned to the forger. "These are Special Agents Santana Lopez and Michael Chang."

Mike nodded in a greeting with a neutral expression on his face but Santana was a completely different story. "Oh, so that's this famous guy who can allegedly steal and forge anything? Forgive me, with your height and these curls I almost mistook you for a hobbit that ran away from the Shire."

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "And here I thought that FBI's standards were a little too high for them to hire a stripper. Tell me, do you use your surgically made boobs to distract the guys you're chasing when you can't catch up with them because of those heels or…?"

Santana's eyes flashed with anger and she stood up. "Listen, you little…"

"Enough." Kurt interrupted firmly, his glare almost lighting everyone in the room on fire. "No matter how entertaining I find the unmistakable love between the two of you, it's neither the time nor the place for this. We have work to do." He said as he sat down on one of the chairs. For a few more seconds Blaine and Santana stared into each other's eyes, then reluctantly took their places behind the table.

"Excellent." Kurt said. "Let's start with the most recent of Smythe's hits."

"The most recent of your screw ups, you meant to say?" Blaine said, smirking slightly.

Kurt breathed through his nose, trying not to pounce at Anderson and strangle him with his bare hands. He opened one of the files and pushed it to the forger.

"A few months ago one of the rich art collectors decided to organize an exhibition to show off his newest purchase, a blue diamond." Kurt started. "Almost immediately a few of our CIs reported that there had been an announcement made on the streets – Sebastian Smythe planned to steal the diamond and for anyone who would try to interfere or forestall him, that would be the last thing they ever did."

At Blaine's raised eyebrows, Kurt smiled thinly. "He's made quite a name for himself since you've been gone. Anyway." He continued. "We set up the surveillance outside of the building the exhibition was held in, and we waited. Nothing happened… until last week. There were no signs of Smythe, or anyone else for that matter, entering the building, when suddenly the alarms went off. We hurried inside only to find the empty showcase. And that's it." Kurt finished bitterly with a shrug. "No diamond, no Smythe."

"And you're sure he's the one who did it?" Blaine asked.

"Definitely." Mike said. "He left his signature card in the showcase, another thing he started doing after you were locked up." He handed Blaine a card in a plastic evidence bag. It was a simple white business card with the black logo, the double _**S**_. "Our best shot is to assume that he somehow sneaked in and out without us noticing him."

"What about the cameras inside?" The forger asked.

"They weren't working." Kurt said with a sigh. "The personnel said there had been some kind of a failure."

"Of course." Blaine muttered with a roll of his eyes. He leaned back on the chair. "Well, I'm sorry to ruin your theory, but I don't think Sebastian was there at all." He said. "He had to have help from the inside, the person who took care of stealing the diamond while he was supervising the hit from the safe distance."

"That's what we thought at the beginning, but we questioned and searched all the people that were working there during the break-in, we didn't find the diamond. And after running their names through all of our bases, we ruled out all of them, none of them had any connections to Smythe or any encounters with the law."

"Unless they gave you a fake name which is exactly what a person working with Smythe would do." Blaine said with an amused expression, like it was an obvious thing. "Do you have the list of the personnel?"

Santana nodded and after rummaging one of the files, she handed him a sheet of paper. Blaine took it and started examining it, searching for anything sounding familiar. He almost gave up when suddenly one name drew his attention. He hummed pensively.

"What is it?" Kurt asked. "Do you know anyone?"

"Not exactly." Blaine said slowly. "But this one name…" He stood up and walked to the white board standing in the corner of the room. He wrote the name in big letters.

**ANTHONY SAMUEL ROGERS**

"What about it? Looks like an average name." Santana said skeptically.

But Blaine didn't seem to hear her as he was intently staring at the black words. Suddenly, he wiped the first and the middle name and rewrote it.

**TONY S. ROGERS**

"What are you trying to achieve here?" Kurt asked. "I don't see how…"

"Hush." Blaine silenced him. Kurt narrowed his eyes, he _hated _being interrupted, and was about to retort angrily, when the forger turned to look at them with a triumphant smirk. "Do any of you happen to be a Marvel fan?" He asked.

Santana looked at him incredulously. "Hobbit, what the fuck is your point? Because, honestly, you're starting to piss me off."

Kurt was about to finally agree with her on something when he heard a sudden gasp.

"Oh my god." Mike whispered in awe. When everyone's eyes turned to him, he stood up and walked to the board.

"Two superheroes, created by Marvel. Iron Man's name is Tony Stark and Captain America is Steve Rogers." He started talking excitedly. "This guy used the name from one of them and the last name from the other, "S" being a link between them." He finished, still staring at the board in amazement.

Kurt and Santana stared at him like he had suddenly grown a second head, but Blaine looked at the agent with his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Impressive." He said quietly, nodding to Mike who shrugged with a small smile.

"Alright." Kurt said, recovering from the shock. "So we know that this guy was probably somehow involved. He's most likely already gone, there's no way we're going to find him." He finished bitterly.

"Not necessarily." Blaine said. When Kurt looked at him with a mixture of hope and skepticism, Blaine winked. "Don't underestimate me, gorgeous. Do you have a clean sheet of paper and a pencil?"

Kurt searched through the papers on the table and found a clear page from some notebook. He pushed it over the table to Blaine, along with a pencil.

"I happen to know a lot of Smythe's associates, but only one of them is fanatically obsessed with Marvel." He said as he sat down and started sketching. He was working in silence for a while, completely ignoring the agents in the room. Slowly, the man's face emerged from under Blaine's skilled hand. After a few more minutes, he put the pencil down. "It'll do." He muttered quietly to himself and lifted his head to look at the agents. "Who questioned all these people?" He asked.

"I did." Santana said, looking at him curiously, no longer shooting daggers at the forger.

"Was there anyone looking like this man?" Blaine asked as he showed her the drawing.

Santana's eyes widened. "Definitely. He was the one working in the lobby of this building."

Blaine smirked triumphantly. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Hunter Clarington." He said as he turned the picture to Kurt and Mike. "Smythe's most trusted friend, I think they've known each other since high school."

Kurt looked silently at the sketch, trying not to let himself get too excited. But they finally had something solid, something more than assumptions and useless rumors so he couldn't help but to feel a little hopeful.

"Do you know where he lives?" He asked Blaine.

The forger shook his head. "If he knew, and I suppose he did, Sebastian never mentioned it."

Kurt nodded in acknowledgement and turned to Mike. "Mike, go and run the name through all the bases, I want this guy's address or wherever he might be. And take the sketch downstairs, and run it through the facial recognition, maybe something will come up. We have to find him."

Mike nodded without a word, still looking quite impressed as he left the room, was it by Blaine's drawing skills or by discovering the connection to his favorite comics - Kurt had no idea.

In the meanwhile, Blaine leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the table. He ignored the glare Kurt sent in his direction and put his hands behind his head.

"I'm here for less than one hour and you already know way much more than you managed to find out during these last five years." He said in a bored tone. "Seriously, what do they teach you in Quantico?" He asked, eyeing the agents scornfully.

"Well, we caught you, didn't we?" Kurt asked snidely.

Blaine snorted. "Yeah, only thanks to Smythe. If he hadn't tipped you off, you'd have never found me."

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." Kurt said, sounding way more confident than he actually felt. He wanted to believe that he would have found Anderson even without Smythe's help, but, to be honest, Blaine had been one of the most intelligent criminals he'd ever encountered. Things hadn't been looking well those five years ago. Kurt would never admit it to Blaine, but he was right – Smythe's call had been crucial for his case.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" He heard Santana ask and looked up to see her smiling at him sweetly. Too sweetly.

"Sure." He said, eyeing her warily. "Let's go to my office. You-" He turned to Blaine."-stay here."

The forger shrugged. "Yeah, because there are so many places I could go to right now."

Kurt didn't bother with answering and led Santana out of the conference room, to his office, which was right next door. He closed the door and turned to her, only to find her already sitting behind _his_ desk.

"I like him." She said with a smirk.

"He just called you a stripper." Kurt said incredulously.

"Exactly. It takes some balls to do that, he has my respect." Kurt kept staring at her. "Plus, don't even get me started on the sexual tension between you two, wanky." She added, fanning herself.

"What?!" Kurt exclaimed, petrified. "What on earth are you talking about?!"

Santana's smirk got even wider. "Oh, please. You so want to bone him."

"I hate him, Santana." Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't see how that is a problem." She shrugged. "Come on, Porcelain. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't think he's hot." She looked at him challengingly.

"He's… attractive." Kurt said unsurely, knowing he just let himself get caught in Santana's trap. Seeing her looking at him skeptically, he threw his hands in the air. "Fine, okay! I'm not blind. I might find him hot, that doesn't mean I want to sleep with him!" He lowered his voice to a frantic whisper, as if someone could hear him.

"He'd totally go for it, you know. He keeps checking your ass out all the time." Santana said, looking boringly at her nails.

Kurt shook his head incredulously, looking scandalized. "Why are we even talking about this? There's nothing between Anderson and me. And why would you even suggest something like that? You know that the intimate relationships between the CIs and their handlers are strictly forbidden. So, where are you even going with this conversation?" He said, words tumbling out of his mouth at the speed of a bullet.

"You see, he's technically not your CI. CIs don't live with their handlers, nor do they spend every minute of their day joined by the hip. This deal you have with him isn't regulated anywhere, so…"

"Enough." Kurt cut her off. "It's not going to happen, I don't even know why you…" He rubbed his temples tiredly. "Nevermind. We're done talking about it."

"Just looking out for you, Porcelain." Santana said as she got up and passed him on her way to the door. She smirked at him one last time and walked out of the room.

Kurt stared after her, unable to move for a few seconds. Even after knowing Santana for so long, she still managed to throw him for a loop every now and then. This time, she completely lost her mind though, he was pretty sure of that. So he decided to do what had worked best for him for years – ignore her.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. While Mike and Santana were working on finding Clarington, Kurt decided to collect the files and reports from all the previous cases in which Smythe was a suspect, hoping Anderson would shed some light on them. Maybe he would notice something they didn't, something that would help them learn more about Sebastian or anything about his whereabouts. Kurt had never been fond of asking for help, he'd always been fine on his own, but Blaine had the kind of knowledge and experience none of them could ever have and, as much as it pained Kurt to admit it – they needed him.

Kurt put all the files in his bag and glanced through the glass wall into the conference room where Blaine was sitting. He was drawing something, looking completely lost in it, like nothing else mattered in that moment. Kurt smiled bitterly. Oh, how he wished Blaine would behave like this when they were alone in the apartment, his life would be so much calmer and easier. But, unfortunately, the forger apparently had some kind of mission which consisted purely of making Kurt's life a living hell. The agent groaned tiredly at the thought of another snapping fight with Blaine, _hating him is so exhausting, _he thought.

Kurt walked closer and knocked loudly on the glass. Blaine's head snapped up and when he met his gaze, Kurt jerked his head in the general direction of the lower part of the office. Blaine rolled his eyes, but he got up and walked to the door, putting his leather jacket on and stuffing the folded drawing in his pocket and Kurt exited his office to meet him in the hallway.

"I have some homework for you." He said, smiling sweetly.

"Fantastic." Blaine spoke in a monotone, barely gazing at Kurt as they walked down the stairs and headed to the elevators.

They didn't talk during the ride back home, though, when Kurt thought about it, they never talked. They only ever snapped or yelled at each other. Not that he minded the silence, not at all. When they entered the apartment, Blaine almost instantly moved in the direction of his room, only slowing down to pet Satine on his way.

"Hey." Kurt said, effectively stopping the forger. He pulled the documents from his bag and handed them to Blaine. "Those are the files about all the crimes we think Smythe committed. If you could…"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Blaine said offhandedly, taking the files. "What would you do without me, pretty boy?" He added and winked before disappearing into his room.

Kurt shook his head and walked to his own bedroom to get changed. He didn't feel like cooking anything, so he decided to order the food from his favourite take-out place. As he dialed the number, he wondered briefly if Anderson had anything against Thai food, but he quickly dismissed the concern, that wasn't his problem at all. After placing his order (he made it big enough for two, he might hate the guy, but he wasn't a _total_ asshole) he plopped on the couch, deciding to kill time and distract himself from hunger by watching TV. Just as he was about to turn it on, he heard the music, the same melody that Blaine played in the morning. Only this time, after few chords, he also heard a voice – Blaine was singing.

_Vivo per lei da quando sai_

_La prima volta l'ho incontrata,_

_Non mi ricordo come ma_

_Mi è entrata dentro e c'è restata_

His voice was growing stronger with each verse, sounding raw and passionate. Kurt sat there mesmerized, with his mouth wide open and couldn't believe his ears, because that was truly one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. He already knew Blaine was talented, judging by the way he played in the morning, but now, after hearing his voice, he was even more impressed and stunned. And he was singing in Italian.

_È__ una musa che ci invita_

_A sfiorarla con le dita,_

_Atraverso un pianoforte_

_La morte è lontana,_

_Io vivo per lei_

Kurt listened in awe as Blaine poured his heart into the song, even though he didn't understand what it was about. But he didn't have to understand to know that it was special to Blaine, he could hear it in the tone of his voice as he sang with so much power and devotion.

_Vivo per lei nient'altro ho_

_E quanti altri incontrerò_

_Che come me hanno scritto in viso:_

_Io vivo per lei_

Kurt closed his eyes as he listened to the beautiful song, wondering what caused that unexpected flow of emotions. He also wondered if Blaine was aware of the fact that Kurt could hear him perfectly well, or if he was so lost in the playing that it didn't matter to him. It seemed odd for him, especially because Blaine was a master in hiding his emotions, but here he was, completely unguarded. It was surprisingly a nice change. Suddenly, Kurt's brain somehow connected the dots and the name of the song came back to his memory, and he hastily typed it into his phone to remember it for later and maybe google the translation.

_Vivo per lei perché oramai_

_Io non ho altra via d'uscita,_

_Perché la musica lo sai_

_Davvero non l'ho mai tradita._

_Vivo per lei perché mi da_

_Pause e note in libertà_

_Ci fosse un'altra vita la vivo,_

_La vivo per lei_

With the last notes, the music vanished and the silence filling the apartment suddenly seemed deafening to Kurt. He didn't know what to do next, pretend he didn't hear anything if Blaine came from his room or just brush it off, he was at a loss.

He was suddenly startled by the ring of the doorbell. He walked to the door, paid for the food and got back to the kitchen, moving like he was in a trance. Listening to Blaine singing like that made him realize that there were more sides to the forger than he knew. And now he was intrigued, and all he wanted to do was solve the mystery that was Blaine Anderson.

* * *

He couldn't explain why he started singing. At first he just wanted to play the familiar melody, but when it emerged from under his fingers, something in him snapped. His voice somehow found its way out and once he started, he couldn't stop. So he didn't, he kept singing his heart out, not really caring that, somewhere in the apartment, Hummel could probably hear everything. It didn't matter.

_Vivo per lei la musica._

_Io vivo per lei_

_Vivo per lei è unica_

_Io vivo per lei_

_Io vivo per lei_

_Io vivo_

_Per lei_

He finished softly, singing the last verses quietly to himself. Blaine smiled. Even being out of prison didn't make him one hundred percent free, not yet, but when he was singing?

He felt more alive and free than he felt in ages. And suddenly, he felt happy.

* * *

**The songs:**

**\- Vivo Per Lei (instrumental version)**

**\- Vivo Per Lei (by Andrea Bocelli and Laura Pausini) - I know it's a duet, but I think Darren/Blaine would totally pull it off :)**

**The translation of the fragments mentioned in this chapter is also on my tumblr :)**

**Review? :)**

**K.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Surprise!**

**Happy Darren's opening night Day! He's going to be incredible as Hedwig 3 :)**

**Here I am, with a new chapter, sorry it took me so long. Big thanks to my beta, Ida, for reading it over very quickly :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"_Oh god." The man under him gasped as Blaine sucked the trail of marks on his pale neck. He thrust his hips hard, eliciting a long moan from the man. He sped his movements, changing slightly the angle, making his lover scream out in ecstasy. Pinning the man's wrists above his head, he kissed him roughly and kept pounding into him mercilessly. _

"_Look at me." He rasped. "Look at me."_

_He punctuated each word with a nibble on the man's neck and with one particularly sharp thrust the man opened his eyes and Blaine was struck by how blue they were. He took in the face of his lover, those piercing eyes, flushed cheeks, kiss swollen lips… God, he was beautiful._

Blaine's eyes snapped open. He was panting heavily and closed his eyes again, trying to catch his breath. He slowly sat up and looked around, he was still in his room. Alone. It was just a dream. Blaine was used to having them, but the men he was with were always faceless. He groaned, as he plopped back on the bed. God, he needed to get laid, it had been forever. And Hummel, parading around in the fitted suits or those damn tight jeans that made his ass look _fabulous,_ wasn't making it any easier_._ Blaine groaned again. As much as he hated Hummel, he'd love nothing more than to pin him down on the bed, leave marks on his pale body and fuck him relentlessly into the mattress, making him scream Blaine's quickly shook his head. He couldn't believe he was even considering it, _he was a fed. _Blaine got up from the bed and quietly exited his room. To Blaine's relief, the agent was nowhere to be seen – the last thing Blaine needed was Hummel catching him sneaking to the bathroom with a hard on. He quickly locked the bathroom door behind him and started the shower. He stepped under the spray of hot water and closed his eyes. After a while, he leaned back against the cool tile wall and started stroking himself slowly. Gradually, his hand sped up and even though he tried not to, he couldn't help but imagine Hummel right there on his knees, his lips wrapped around Blaine's cock and looking up at him with those wide blue eyes. He moaned quietly and twisted his wrist. He imagined grabbing this chestnut hair and fucking deeply into Hummel's mouth, making him take it. It took only a couple of strokes more and Blaine came with a long moan, harder than he had in ages.

He stood motionlessly for a few moments before opening his eyes and quickly washing himself. He walked out of the shower and looked in the mirror. His reflection stared right back and him and Blaine sighed, running fingers through his wet curls.

He was so fucked.

* * *

Hearing the shower start, Kurt decided to head to the kitchen to start preparing some breakfast for himself, and was just exiting his bedroom, stretching lazily, when he heard a sound. A sound that made him stop dead in his tracks, mid-yawn and arms still above his head. A moan. The kind of moan that could unmistakably only come from one thing. And it shouldn't mean a thing, but Kurt could suddenly feel heat boiling inside him, and he quickly tried to shake off this feeling. It was _just_ a moan, Blaine Anderson's moan and it shouldn't do anything to Kurt, but, unfortunately, his cock hadn't exactly got that memo. He hastily scrambled back to his bedroom when he heard the water stop and leaned back against the door and breathed deeply. _Think about dead kittens and boobs, dead kittens and boobs…_, Kurt thought frantically, trying to tame the sudden desire that seemed to spread to every cell of his body. After a few moments, his heart stopped pounding heavily; his body seemed to cool down, which made him quietly sigh in relief, even though he was still half-hard. Suddenly, he heard the bathroom door open and immediately held his breath, even though the rational part of his brain kept telling him that it wasn't necessary, there was no way Blaine could have known he was standing there. Well, apparently, rational wasn't Kurt's strong suit this morning.

When the sound of Blaine's footsteps faded away and Kurt heard him moving around in the kitchen, he quickly made up his mind. He opened the door and calmly went to the bathroom, not wanting to alert Blaine. When he locked the door behind him, he sighed in relief. He needed a shower, a very cold shower and he needed it right now. After taking his clothes off, he forced himself under the ice-cold spray of water which effectively killed not only his boner, but probably also the remains of his good mood. Slightly shivering, he stepped out from the shower and quickly dressed himself. _Damn libido, _he thought grumpily, already knowing his day was going to suck, even though it barely started. It had been so long since the last time he had sex, swamped with work, busy hunting Smythe, and that's what Kurt decided to blame for his body's reactions to Anderson walking around shirtless, in sweats hanging low on his hips and moaning in the shower. It had to be it, because it was absolutely impossible for Kurt to be even remotely attracted to that dickhead. It was just his human body, reacting that way for purely biological reasons. Fortunately, he had his brain to do the thinking and stop him from doing anything stupid.

Right? Right.

Satisfied with his reasoning, Kurt walked out of the bathroom and stepped in the living room, and noticed Blaine sitting on one of the bar stools, filling his bowl with cereal and milk. Saying nothing, he walked past him and busied himself in the kitchen, making his own breakfast.

"Anything on Clarington?" Blaine suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Kurt looked up from the fruits he was cutting and found Blaine leaning on the counter, chewing slowly, and damn, nobody should look _that _attractive while eating cereal. The black curls, still slightly wet after the shower Blaine took, and sparkling hazel eyes weren't making Kurt's situation any better.

_We talked about it, _Kurt scolded himself. _Focus, Hummel._

"Still nothing." Kurt answered evenly, but unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "His last known address is Columbus, Ohio, but he hasn't actually lived there in years."

"Oh, sweet, beautiful Ohio." Blaine said quietly, the disdain evident in his voice.

"You don't seem very fond of your home state." Kurt stated with an eyebrow raised.

"Not the best place for guys like me." Blaine said. "Or you. A pretty boy like you wouldn't survive a week." He added, briefly eyeing Kurt up and turning his attention back to the bowl of cereal.

Kurt's eyes narrowed and any remains of desire he had left in his body were instantly replaced by pure irritation. "That's interesting…" He started and if a glare could kill, Blaine would have been dead already. "…considering the fact that I'm from Lima, _born and raised_." He finished the sentence basically hissing, the anger seeping through his voice.

Blaine glanced at him and gave him a dubious look, but his expression quickly turned into a surprised one when he noticed Kurt's death glare. "Wait, you're not kidding?" He asked, basically choking on his breakfast.

"Why would you think that?" Kurt gritted out, clenching his fists to ground himself, because he already knew where this conversation was going.

"Because you're…" Blaine started, gesturing with his hands, trying to find the right words and failing miserably. "…you. You look like a perfect prey for all the ignorant people, how did you even make it? Tell me your secret, pretty boy, home schooling? Private school?"

By the time Blaine finished talking, Kurt was seeing red and shaking with anger. He slowly walked to the counter and leaned forward to look Blaine straight in the eyes. "And I actually thought that you were intelligent and had some class. Looks like there's nothing extraordinary about you after all, you're just an ignorant, judgmental asshole, a model native of Ohio." He said venomously. "Well, guess what, Anderson. Some people don't need their parents' money to get through the teenage years." He added pointedly, remembering what he read about Blaine and his family's financial situation in the file the FBI had on him.

As soon as he said that, he knew he hit the sore spot. Blaine jerked back and stood up, and even though Kurt wasn't afraid of him, he took a step back at the sight of anger flaring up in his eyes, despite the counter between them.

"Yes, what a blessed life I had. You have no idea how fantastic it has been, especially since I turned eighteen. It became so swell after that, because that's when mommy and daddy dearest had absolutely no legal obstacles and could freely kick their only son from the house for being a fucking fag." Blaine said darkly and Kurt's eyes widened in shock, because he didn't know _that._

Heavy silence filled the apartment as both men stood motionlessly, Blaine staring blankly at the book shelves, his fists clenched and Kurt trying to comprehend what he'd just heard. He was still kind of mad, but all the annoyance he felt seemed to suddenly vanish, replaced by… sympathy?

"I'm sorry." Kurt said quietly.

Blaine scoffed. "Like you care." He muttered and turned around, presumably to walk to his bedroom.

"You're an asshole." Kurt stated firmly and saw Blaine stop and shake his head, but he continued before the forger could say anything. "But nobody deserves something like that. So I'm sorry."

Blaine stared at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes and Kurt shifted uncomfortably. Usually he handled awkward silences quite well, but something about Anderson was always making him nervous and he had absolutely no idea why. Fortunately, before things could get even more awkward, Kurt was saved by his phone ringing in his bedroom. He quickly walked past Blaine, into his room, and grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

"Hey, Mike, what's up?" He answered in a rush, walking back to the living room.

Blaine watched as Hummel's eyes widened comically and how he basically ran past him to the kitchen area, downed the coffee in one gulp, the phone never leaving his ear.

"Alright, we'll be there soon." He said and hung up. He was moving around the kitchen efficiently, like a robot, but he stopped at Blaine's questioning gaze.

"Clarington." He explained hastily. "They found him and brought him to interrogation. He still thinks we think his real name's Tony Rogers though." He added and Blaine didn't miss the small smirk ghosting on his face.

Kurt quickly put the dishes in the sink and jogged to his room. "We're leaving in ten!" He shouted and shut his door behind him.

Blaine stood there, slightly dumbfounded by the Hummel tornado that just swept through the apartment. Shaking himself out of it and went to his room to get changed. True to his word, the agent was ready exactly 7 minutes later and before Blaine knew it, they were already on their way to the Bureau, neither mentioning the conversation they had in the kitchen. When they reached the office, Hummel led them to the interrogation rooms. He gestured at the door for Blaine to come in and the forger found himself in the observation room, allowing him to watch the interrogation without being seen. He looked through the glass and saw Clarington seating on the chair, wearing a bored expression on his face. _Oh, if you only knew how truly screwed you are, _Blaine thought with satisfaction. Suddenly, the door behind him opened and when Blaine turned his head he saw that Asian agent, Mike, enter the room. He stood by his side and watched Clarington as intently as Blaine.

"Show time." Mike said with a smirk as Kurt entered the interrogation room and took a seat on the other side of the table.

Kurt leaned back on the chair and eyed the man sitting in front of him. His posture was confident and he wore a bored, neutral expression on his face.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Rogers." He started conversationally.

"Well, it didn't seem like I had much of a choice." Clarington said, corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "I assume this is about the diamond stolen from my boss? How can I help you, agent…?

"Hummel." Kurt supplied. "A few things came up during our investigation and I'd like to ask you if you could clear some of them for us."

"I'm all ears." The man smiled kindly. "Always happy to help."

Kurt smirked. "Okay, why don't we start with the easiest question. Tell me, Mr. Rogers, are you okay with me calling you that or would you rather prefer being addressed as Mr. Clarington?" He asked and watched how the smile fell from the man's face and how his eyes widened almost comically.

Blaine huffed and glared at him disdainfully through the glass separating them from the interrogation room.

"Look at him." He said to Mike. "Hummel caught him completely off guard and you can read it all over his face."

"It's weird though." Mike said thoughtfully. "He's been doing it for a while now, you'd think he'd be more prepared to push the suspicions away from himself."

"His confidence lost him." Blaine said quietly. "He's never been put in a situation like this before and he never thought he would. In his mind there was no way you could connect him to Smythe and to any of the robberies he helped with. And without me, you'd never do that." Blaine said, smiling slightly. "Which doesn't change the fact that he's a total idiot, you can _never_ assume you're untouchable. You always have to be ready and have a plan B." Blaine rolled his eyes. "I bet even Hummel is going to break him in less than ten minutes. Anyone would."

Mike glanced at him. "Don't underestimate him. He's the best." He smirked. "He may not look like it, but he's one of the toughest and sneakiest agents here, they didn't make him run the whole team for no reason."

"Right." Blaine scoffed and focused back on the two men in the interrogation room.

Hunter cleared his throat and tried to school his expression into what he thought was a neutrally surprised one, failing miserably. Kurt found the attempt both endearing and totally pathetic as he calmly studied Clarington's face, enjoying seeing the panic in his eyes and the droplets of sweat that started to appear on his forehead.

"I don't know what you're talking about…?" He stuttered out, shifting nervously on his seat.

Kurt raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Are you asking me?" He asked with amusement and he could imagine Anderson rolling his eyes and muttering something sarcastic under his breath.

And this wasn't the time to think about Blaine or his reactions, no.

"You're such a terrible liar." Kurt laughed loudly, not able to stop himself. "Tell me something, how on earth did you manage not to get locked up for such a long time?" He asked, genuinely curious, because this man was as transparent as crystal and he couldn't comprehend how he was the accomplice of one of the most skilled criminals Kurt had ever dealt with.

"You can't prove any of that." Hunter said in a pitchy voice. "You have to release me, you have no right to keep me here!" He exclaimed, slightly hysterically.

"Oh, I don't know." Kurt replied nonchalantly. "Working under a false name at the place of robbery and knowing Smythe from high school while he's our main and only suspect seems like a reason good enough."

At Hunter's bewildered expression, he smirked. "Yes, Clarington, we know stuff like that."

_Thanks to your former co-worker, but let's skip that fact._

Hunter's breathing visibly sped up he literally looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Kurt _really _shouldn't be enjoying it that much.

"So, why don't you start talking and tell me how exactly you stole the diamond and, most importantly, where I can find Smythe." He said, leaning forward, scanning Hunter with a calm expression. Apparently, Clarington decided to give him the silent treatment and stubbornly kept staring at the wall behind Kurt, completely unaware that he was basically looking straight into Blaine's eyes. In the observation room, the forger was watching him with pity when suddenly a thought popped into his head.

"He was working at the lobby, right? He asked and Mike nodded, looking at him curiously.

"So he was probably the one that handled the post?" Seeing Mike nod again, he smiled. "I think I know how they got the diamond out of the building. I know the cameras were disabled, but do you have the footage from the days before the alarm?"

Mike didn't answer right away, already typing on the laptop he brought with him. "Yeah, the gallery gave it to us when we started the investigation." He said as he opened the first video file, showing the lobby of the building.

"Alright, look." Blaine said, pointing on the screen. "Here, on his desk, there's a box, everyone leaves the letters and papers they want to send and, every day, a postman comes to take them and it's the receptionist's job to make sure everything goes smoothly."

As they watched video after video, it turned out that Blaine was right. Hunter was there, talking to the postman every day, but nothing besides that.

"Okay, here's the footage from the day before they discovered the diamond was missing." Mike said, hitting the play button.

"That's it." Blaine said immediately after the video started. "Look how he's fidgeting on his seat and keeps staring at the front door. He's nervous and he's waiting for something or someone."

And sure enough, when the postman arrived, Hunter, besides the usual stack of letters, gave him a small package; a package of the size ideally fitting the stolen diamond.

Blaine smirked triumphantly and Mike shook his head with a smile. He couldn't help but like the forger and he had a feeling that if they had met under different circumstances, they would have become great friends.

"Nice job." He said and raised his fist and Blaine, only after a short moment of hesitation, bumped it with his own. Mike grinned. "I'll go tell Kurt."

He knocked loudly on the glass and Kurt turned his head slightly at the noise. He stood up, smiling at Hunter. "Excuse me for a moment." He said kindly and exited the room to find Mike waiting for him. His eyes widened as his friend quietly explained what they had found out, well, what Blaine figured out.

"Can you zoom in and make out the address on the box?" Kurt asked just as quietly, so Clarington couldn't hear them through the door.

Mike shook his head. "No, it's blurred. Sorry."

"That's fine. I can work with that." Kurt winked and went back to the room.

"So." He started as he sat back down. "Sending it by post? Weren't you afraid it would get lost or something?" He asked conversationally, barely stopping himself from laughing when Hunter's jaw basically hit the table. When the man did nothing besides staring at him owlishly, Kurt sighed and leaned back on the chair to stretch.

"You know, there's no point in being so stubborn." He said lightly. "We can already connect you to a few previous hits you helped Smythe with." That was a little bluff, but Kurt was pretty sure Anderson could easily provide them with that kind of information, so it was worth a shot. "You have nothing to lose."

Hunter, no longer hyperventilating, was looking at him intensely, probably weighing his options. Seeing his struggle, Kurt pushed the clean sheet of paper along with a pen in his direction.

"Where did you send the diamond?" He asked quietly.

Hunter eyed the paper warily and, sighing with resignation, scribbled the address. "It's not like you're going to find it. It's long gone by now." He said, smirking smugly, seeming very proud of himself and of the way he handled the situation. Well, the way he _thought _he handled the situation.

Kurt smiled, snickering internally at the man's naivety. "Oh, I know." He said nonchalantly. "That's why you're going to tell me everything you know about Sebastian Smythe. His apartments, storages, hideouts. Everything."

Hunter looked at him in disbelief. "Do you actually think I know that stuff?" He asked incredulously. "Man, Sebastian is crazy about keeping all of this a secret; the only way to find him is when he contacts you. I may have known him for a while, but I have no idea about where he lives or works or whatever. There was only one person that knew things like that." He said with a smirk. "Anderson. You could probably visit him in jail, but I doubt anything he tells you is up-to-date, Bas probably changed everything after he got rid of him."

"Got rid of him, huh?" Kurt asked, pretending not to have a clue about the anonymous caller's identity. "Why would he do that?"

Apparently, Hunter didn't have any inhibitions left, because he answered right away. "Anderson was being all classy and noble, avoided any mess or complications. He was so fucking talented, but was also becoming inconvenient. He even called 911 once, when Bas shot a guy!" He exclaimed disbelievingly as if he expected Kurt to show any understanding in the matter.

"Outrageous, really." Kurt muttered sarcastically.

"And Bas didn't want Anderson's moral code to interfere with his plans and ambitions, so he set him up." Hunter continued, completely missing Kurt's remark. "It was brilliant, I wish I could have seen Anderson's face."

Kurt could only imagine how livid Blaine was at the moment and he silently hoped that Mike would be able to stop him, in case the forger decided to barge in and strangle Hunter with his bare hands. Just to be careful though, he decided to end Clarington's praises about Smythe, hoping he would reveal something actually relevant to their current case.

"Let's get back on track." Kurt interrupted decisively. "So you know nothing? Nothing that can help me find Smythe?" He asked, growing impatient, the initial hope he felt slowly vanishing away as he realized that the interrogation was going to result to be mostly fruitless.

"He's only ever called me from unknown numbers and we always met in a different place to discuss the details." Hunter said, shrugging.

"That's better than nothing." Kurt muttered. "Give me the addresses of those places." Seeing Hunter opening his mouth to speak up, he raised his hand to stop him; he was done and beyond annoyed with this man. "No questions, just write them down."

When he did as told, Kurt grabbed the paper and left the room, basically colliding with Santana in the hall.

"Whoa, easy there, Porcelain." She said, regaining her balance. "You look like shit." She added as she studied his face.

Kurt groaned. "I just hate interrogations like that, nothing useful came up, so I basically wasted my time with that idiot."

"Well, good news, hobbit pointed me to a few cases that Clarington allegedly worked on, and I managed to find him on the footage from the streets and coffee shops around the crime scenes, so that should be more than enough to keep him locked up." She said with a smirk.

"Awesome. I just wish it would be Smythe that we're locking up." Kurt said quietly, the weariness seeping through his voice.

"Chin up, Hummel." Santana said, walking away, leaving him in the empty hall. "You'll get him."

Kurt stood there for a minute before slowly heading in the direction of the main office. He really hoped she was right.

As the day went on, Kurt grew more and more tired and irritated. Two agents on his team forgot to hand in the paperwork that was due _two days ago_. After he reprimanded them, he was walking back to his office and one of the rookies tripped and spilled the entire pot of coffee on him and he barely stopped himself from biting the poor woman's head off. As he was changing in the spare suit he kept in his room, he was grateful that at least Anderson wasn't bothering him at the moment, after the fight they had that morning, he wasn't exactly sure how to act around him. Mike, being as perceptive as always, noticed the tension and exhaustion in Kurt's eyes and decided to take care of babysitting Anderson and from what Kurt could see from his office, they were actually getting along quite well. It was… new. Blaine was still keeping his distance, but seeing him interact so freely with another agent was rather unsettling and kind of confusing.

Kurt sighed in relief when he glanced at the clock and it was finally time to go home. He went down to the lower part of the office and collected Anderson from Mike's desk. He was quiet during the ride home and as they reached the front door to the apartment, Kurt actually let himself hope for a nice, peaceful evening, without all the snapping and bickering. Oh, how wrong he was.

"Took you long enough to make Clarington talk." Blaine said casually as they entered the living room. "Not that he said anything relevant." He added with a smirk.

Kurt took a deep breath and decided to ignore the forger, hoping he would let it go.

"Come on, gorgeous, don't be like that." Blaine's teasing voice stopped him as he was walking to his bedroom.

"Stop calling me that." He said quietly without turning around, his fists clenched tightly.

"Nah." Blaine replied and when Kurt looked at him, he was leaning against the door between the living room and the hall, wearing that damned smirk on his face. "It's too much fun, you're making it _so_ easy."

That was too much for Kurt. After the horrible day he had, he didn't have any strength left in him. In a few long strides he crossed the room and harshly pinned Anderson against the door.

"God, why do you have to be so annoying?" He asked angrily, keeping the vice grip on the leather jacket the forger was wearing.

If Blaine was surprised by Kurt's sudden action, he didn't show it. "Relax, handsome, you're going to give yourself a headache." He said mockingly.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Kurt growled lowly.

"You look hot when you're angry, pretty boy." Blaine smirked, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Shut up." Kurt snarled, punctuating each word with pushing the forger harder against the door.

"Make me." Blaine whispered challengingly, his breath ghosting on Kurt's face.

Hearing him saying that, combined with all the emotions, the anger and hatred that flooded Kurt's body was the last straw. All of the snide remarks, the blows they exchanged in the morning, all of this came back to him, making his blood boil, and, without thinking, he yanked Blaine forward and crashed their lips together.

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**Please, review?**

**K. xx**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey! I'm back!**

**I'm so sorry it's been that long, I know I always say that. But now, I officially have summer holidays, I'm done with my finals, so I hope I'll be able to update more often :)**

**Happy belated birthday to Jodie, my bestie, I hope you like that chapter :)**

**Oh, and please, be gentle - it's my first time writing something like that ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

It felt like the world had exploded. As soon as Kurt crashed their lips together, Blaine wrapped his arms around his waist and instantly deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Kurt's mouth. The agent groaned quietly and buried his fingers in Blaine's curls, tugging slightly and pulling him closer, eliciting a muffled moan from the forger. For a few moments it felt like time had stopped, the only thing Kurt could focus on were Blaine's lips against his, his arms holding him tight and the shivers running down his spine every time Blaine possessively bit his lip. For a few moments, all Kurt could feel was an absolute pleasure and lust, and it wasn't until Blaine swiftly turned them around and pinned him against the door when his mind caught up with what was happening. He abruptly pulled away and pushed Blaine away from himself with all the strength he could manage.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Kurt exclaimed, panting heavily, the panic evident in his voice.

"Me?" Blaine asked, a little out of breath as well, cocking his eyebrow questioningly. His hair was a mess from all the tugging, his kiss swollen lips were looking absolutely delicious and his hazel eyes were dark with desire, all of which made Kurt curse him for looking so damn hot. "If I remember correctly, it was you that basically attacked me with your mouth."

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes, speechless, his mind racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to decide what to do next. Anderson standing right in front of him, studying him with those damn hazel lustful eyes, wasn't making the process any easier.

"Not that I was complaining , you know." Blaine added, raking Kurt's body up and down with hungry expression. "So why don't we continue what you started?" He asked with a sultry smirk, taking a step closer.

Kurt immediately raised his hands to stop him. "Wh- what are you… Why?" He stammered. "You hate me."

"True. But you're hot." Blaine said, shrugging. "And I haven't gotten laid in ages. And I know you think I'm hot, too." Seeing Kurt starting to reply, he shook his head. "Don't even try to deny it, gorgeous."

Kurt clenched his fists and kept staring at Blaine. "You just got out of prison. This could be practically your return ticket." He said, trying to sound calm and collected, but, truth to be told, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so out of control.

"Only if anyone finds out." Blaine said with a smirk, again, stepping closer.

"Why are you willing to risk everything?" Kurt asked, trying to ignore how breathy his voice had become.

Blaine took another step forward until he was right in front of the agent, chest to chest. "What's life without risk?" He whispered, his breath ghosting on Kurt's lips. He pressed himself further into Kurt's body. The agent resisted the urge to groan and fought to stay still, but he knew Blaine could feel how hard he was against his hip. The forger slowly trailed his lips along his jaw until he reached his ear.

"Come on, agent Hummel." He hummed. "Live a little."

Kurt shuddered and closed his eyes. It was wrong, so wrong and it definitely wasn't something he should do. He could feel one of Blaine's hands on his hip, pulling him closer and the other one slowly undoing his tie. When he felt it slipping from his neck, he realized that, somehow, his own hands were resting against Blaine's chest, gripping tightly on the leather jacket he was wearing. Feeling Blaine nip slightly at the lobe of his ear, he wasn't able to stop the little moan escaping from his mouth.

Hearing it, Blaine pulled back to look at Kurt. The agent was leaning his head against the door, panting and biting his bottom lip, eyes closed and cheeks flushed. The sight was truly sinful and Blaine was seconds away from dragging him to the bedroom. He managed to restrain himself, but suddenly, Hummel's eyes snapped open and Blaine had never seen them so dark and filled with desire. Before he had time to react, Kurt's mouth was on his again, and he was backing him forcefully in the direction of their rooms. Stumbling slightly, Blaine wrapped his arms around the agent's waist and shoved his tongue into Kurt's mouth, kissing back just as roughly. Blindly, Kurt started pawing at Blaine's jacket, trying to get it off the man, and as soon as he managed to throw it away, Blaine's hands moved to his shoulders to get rid of his suit jacket. He tossed it aside somewhere and, for once, Kurt didn't care about the wrinkles that he would for sure have to deal with later. Gracelessly, tripping over their feet and the furniture, they finally managed to get to the hall between their rooms and Kurt pulled them into his.

"I have the supplies." He muttered against Blaine's lips, kicking the door open.

Blaine growled deep in his throat as they made their way through the room, turning them right before his knees could hit the mattress and pushed Kurt hard down on the bed. The agent fell with a yelp and gave Blaine his best death glare which only made the forger smirk devilishly. Crawling on the bed, Blaine settled on top of him and reattached their lips. It was rough and messy, their kisses full of sheer want and lust, and while it wasn't something that Kurt was usually into, in that moment it felt way too good to stop. His brain seemed to short circuit, the only thing that mattered was Blaine's lips on his and the pressing of his hard cock against his hip. Few moments later, Blaine broke the kiss and moved his lips to Kurt's neck, raising his hips, careful to maintain the distance between their bodies. It didn't take long for the agent to start squirming impatiently.

"Are you going to do anything else besides sucking my neck?" He huffed in annoyance. "What are you, a vampire?"

Blaine chuckled darkly. "Bossy." He muttered against Kurt's skin.

"Shut up—_oh god_." Kurt started saying, but it quickly morphed into a long groan when Blaine thrusted his hips sharply against his.

"You were saying?" He asked sweetly, slowly and teasingly rocking against Kurt, making his blood boil.

"God, I hate you." Kurt gasped, thrusting up to meet Blaine's movements, eliciting a muffled groan from him which went straight down to his cock.

"The feeling's mutual, darling." Blaine murmured and moved his hands from Kurt's hips to start working on unbuttoning his shirt. Sensing him struggle, Kurt sighed in exasperation and sat up, pushing Blaine off him.

"You're so clumsy." He said, rolling his eyes and making the quick work with the buttons and tossed his shirt on the floor.

"Fuck you." Blaine snapped, glaring at him and pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"In a minute." Kurt retorted with a smirk, lying back and grabbing Blaine's arms to pull him back on top of him, then wrapped one leg around his hip and used all his strength to turn them around, and straddled Blaine's hips, effectively pinning him down to the mattress.

From where he was lying, Blaine looked up and took in the sight of Hummel on top of him, his broad chest, well-toned arms, his tousled hair and dark eyes, and god, he couldn't remember the last time when he'd wanted someone that much.

"Just so you know, I don't bottom." He said when the agent started unbuckling his belt.

"I figured." Kurt replied, rolling his eyes and slightly grazed the zipper with his fingers, enjoying the way Anderson clearly fought to stay still and quiet. "And usually, neither do I. But I'm willing to make an exception." He said and if someone had asked him, he couldn't have explained why he offered. The words stumbled out of his mouth before he even thought about them. Usually, he'd bottom only if he trusted the other person completely, which definitely wasn't happening with Anderson, but despite all of that, he _wanted_ it so bad, the thought of being held down and fucked into the mattress making his whole body shiver with lust and need.

He slid down and pulled Blaine's jeans down, leaving him in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. His mouth watered at the sight of the clear outline of his cock and he got off the bed, ignoring Anderson's impatient growl, and slowly started to take off his own pants. As soon as they were on the floor and Kurt kneeled back on the bed, Blaine pulled him harshly pushed him on his back, kissing him hungrily.

"Fucking tease." He growled against his lips, rutting their cocks together through the thin material of their underwear. "Lube?"

"The nightstand on your right, top drawer." Kurt gasped, unable to stop his hips moving on their own accord.

Blaine pulled away and reached to the nightstand and, after a short moment, he found what he was looking for and grabbed a small bottle of lube and a box of condoms, and tossed them on the bed. In the meantime, Kurt got rid of his underwear and was lying on the bed, gloriously naked, lazily stroking himself. Blaine's brain short circuited at the sight of miles of pale skin at display and his eyes followed the slow movements of Kurt's hand. Sensing him watching, Kurt's eyes snapped open and the agent smirked.

"Like what you see, Anderson?" He asked, his voice sultry and thick with arousal. Seeing Blaine's glazed eyes, he raised his eyebrow. "Will I have to finish this by myself or will you get a grip and fuck me?" He added, panting slightly and speeding up the movements of his hand.

That seemed to bring Blaine back out of his stupor, he quickly took off his underwear and crawled back between Kurt's legs, already uncapping the lube. He slapped Kurt's hand away from his cock and coated his fingers with the lube. Slowly, he started circling Kurt's hole, rubbing teasingly and, judging by the noises the agent was making, driving him out of his mind. Kurt let out an annoyed whine, impatiently moving his hips, trying to make him _do something_ and Blaine, being his asshole self, decided to make it a little bit more fun. Well, for him, at least. Without a warning, he pushed his finger past the tight ring of muscle, making Kurt yelp in surprise and pain.

"Fuck, you suck at this." The agent spat as Blaine worked his finger roughly in and out, relishing in the way Hummel winced with every thrust of his finger.

"No, I just don't care." He said and before Kurt had the time to get used to the burn, he added a second finger, eliciting another angry sound from the man.

"Ugh, fuck." Kurt hissed in pain, shutting his eyes and gripping tightly on the sheets. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his body to relax to ease the uncomfortable burn, because seriously, Anderson was _awful_ at this. Suddenly, Blaine scissored his fingers and pushed them deeper, brushing against his prostate and Kurt was unable to stop himself from moaning. That didn't last for long though, because just as he was getting lost in pleasure, Blaine, without saying anything, added a third finger, making Kurt wince and curse again.

"You asshole." He gasped, feeling Blaine's fingers move quickly back and forth and bit his lip when the forger crooked his fingers, trying to stop himself from moaning, because he would not give him the satisfaction. Kurt would never, ever admit this, but, even though it hurt like a bitch, the part of him liked Anderson being rough like that, it was so fucking hot. He started to move his hips, trying to fuck himself on his fingers, gasping and throwing his head back when they hit his prostate again.

"That's enough, c-come on." He stuttered out, grabbing the condom from the bed and tossing it in Anderson's direction. He bit back a whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness when the forger removed his fingers and stared at him hungrily as he teared the wrap with his teeth and rolled the condom on his hard cock.

Blaine groaned quietly as he coated himself in lube. He stroked his cock a few times and then positioned himself between Kurt's widely spread legs. He leaned forward and claimed the agent's lips in a hard kiss and lined up with his entrance. He could feel Kurt's body tense beneath him as he brushed the tip of his cock against his hole. The agent let out a broken moan as he pushed in, going agonizingly slowly until he bottomed out. He stilled and one could think that he was trying to be gentle and let Hummel get used to the stretch, but that wasn't the case at all. There was nothing more Blaine wanted than to slam forcefully into him and pound into him mercilessly, but that would have to wait, because if he'd gone any faster, he would have probably come right away. It had been way too long and Blaine wasn't going to let it finish before he even had the time to enjoy himself. It wasn't that he'd lived in celibate while he'd been in jail, hooking up there was much easier than someone would have thought. But mostly, it had consisted of rushed handjobs, sometimes blowjobs, finding someone who would let Blaine fuck them had been quite a challenge and hadn't happened very often. That's why the tightness surrounding his cock was so overwhelming and made his whole body buzz with pleasure, need and excitement, and Blaine had to stop for a second, and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths.

As Blaine hovered above him, Kurt gripped his arms tightly, breathing through his nose, trying to get used to the stretch. He almost forgot how good it felt, the burn so intense yet so welcome, Blaine's cock filling him up in the best way possible. He was about to say something snarky and make him move, when Blaine started grinding his hips lightly, making the words die in his throat, but it still wasn't enough. At that rate, Kurt was surely going to go crazy, so he buried his fingers in Blaine's curls and yanked him forward, crashing their lips together. He kissed him harshly, moving his hips up, trying to meet Blaine's shallow thrusts. He whimpered in frustration and ended the kiss with a rough bite on his bottom lip, and slightly pulled his head back, just enough to talk.

"Why don't you finish your teasing games, Anderson - " He panted hoarsely against his mouth. "-and fuck me, like we both want to." He basically growled in impatience.

Blaine's eyes snapped open and for a split second they stared at each other, breathing heavily, pupils blown wide, hazel and blue in their eyes barely visible. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face and Blaine turned his head to nip on Kurt's earlobe.

"I knew you wanted it, pretty boy." He whispered and without giving Kurt a chance to reply he pulled out almost entirely and slammed back into him, making the other man scream in ecstasy. Bracing himself on his arms, he started thrusting in and out, burying himself deeper and deeper with each thrust. They managed to build a rhythm, fast and rough, but so perfect, Blaine snapping his hips sharply and Kurt thrusting up to meet his movements. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were their ragged breaths, moans of pleasure and their skin slapping together.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's wrists and pinned them above his head, just like in his dream. The sight of Kurt Hummel, usually so cold and composed, falling apart underneath him, uninhibited and completely at his mercy almost made him come right on the spot. Instead, he gripped his wrists tighter and changed the angle, and the sounds Hummel was making proved that he was hitting just the right spot. His head was spinning with arousal and lust and it only made him thrust faster and faster, and he could feel himself so close to the edge that he could barely breath.

Kurt didn't have any energy left in him to make any noise, so he just gasped through his open mouth with every slam of Blaine's hips while he was being fucked harder than he'd ever been before. He tried to struggle as Anderson pinned his wrists above his head, but at that moment he was so much stronger and managed to hold him down easily and Kurt _loved_ it. Another thing he'd never admit out loud. He knew he'd have bruises on his wrists and probably on his neck, seeing as Blaine was once again sucking on that spot that was making Kurt mewl in pleasure, but his brain was in no state to process that fact, let alone give a damn. He could feel the heat boiling down in his stomach and he knew he was close, Blaine fucking him hard and so right, the friction on his cock trapped between their bodies, it was all too much. The orgasm hit him like a freight train as he came with a long moan, come spurting from his untouched cock on their chests.

Blaine let out a guttural growl when he felt Kurt clenching around him, the tightness almost unbearable and it only took a few thrust to drive him over the edge and he came, biting hard on Hummel's shoulder. Letting go of his wrists, he collapsed on top of him, not caring about the mess. For a while, they lied still, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. After a few minutes, Blaine lifted himself up and pulled out, making Kurt hiss, and plopped down on the other side of the bed with a huff. He tied the condom up and threw it into the small bin standing next to the bed.

Kurt lied on his back, arms still stretched above his head, his body blissfully pliant after the best sex he'd had in a while. Relaxed and sated, he was absolutely ready to take a nap when his brain started to signalize that something wasn't quite right. Kurt tried to silence the annoying voice in his head, he was exhausted and his brain should know better than try to think after sex.

That's right, sex.

Sex. With Blaine Anderson. Kurt's eyes snapped open in panic and his breath hitched.

He'd just had sex with Blaine Anderson. The convicted criminal that was out of prison only thanks to the deal with the FBI. He, an FBI agent, had just slept with Blaine Anderson. While being his supervising agent.

"I thought it'd take you way less time to start freaking out." The nonchalant voice brought him back from the turmoil of thoughts in his head. His head snapped to his right where Anderson was lying on his side, his head propped up on his left hand. He was staring at him with a smug smirk on his face, his eyes glinting devilishly. Kurt stared right back, his eyes widening as the realization of what they'd done slowly dawned on him.

"Oh my god." He gasped and sat up abruptly, wincing slightly, he was going to be sore _for days_ after Blaine fucked him so hard… "Oh my god."

"I kind of thought that was what you would be screaming, but you weren't quite as vocal as I expected." Blaine said, lying on his back and stretching lazily.

"Oh god, can you be serious for a moment?!" Kurt exclaimed, grabbing a blanket from the floor, not even wanting to think about how it got there, and covering himself with it. "Do you have any idea how bad it is what we've done?!"

"Okay, first of all? Stop being so modest, I had my dick deep in your ass not even ten minutes ago, there's no need to be shy." Blaine said, sitting up and tugging on the blanket with a smirk. Seeing Kurt's death glare, not quite as powerful as it was also full of panic, he rolled his eyes. "Second of all." He continued. "Do you expect the fact that we fucked to be all over the news tomorrow or something? Because otherwise, I don't see a problem."

"I'll lose my job, this will be the end of my career, oh my-"

"Hummel! Calm the fuck down." He interrupted and seeing him shut up, he continued. "Are you planning to tell anyone about it?"

"Of course not, are you out of your mind-"

"Neither am I." Blaine cut him off again. "So I think we're good."

Kurt looked at him incredulously. "But you are… You could…" He didn't finish the thought, too afraid to give Anderson any ideas. But apparently, the forger could read him like an open book.

"Hummel, ratting on you and getting you fired, no matter how appealing it sounds, would most likely send be back to jail." He said in amusement. He glanced down on his chest and winced, seeing the drying come on his body. "And now I need a shower, so I'll leave you and your panic mode alone."

Not bothering to put anything on, he got up. When he reached the door, he turned his head back to look at the agent who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in a blanket, gripping it tightly, as if he hoped it would shield him from all the troubles and worries. He looked so lost and miserable, and Blaine felt something stir inside his chest .

"Hey." He called out before his brain had the time to comprehend what he was doing. Kurt's head snapped up and he looked at him with wide, distressed eyes and Blaine was struck by how their colour changed. They were a mix of grey and blue, tainted with worry, and the forger was amazed by how unguarded they were at the moment. "Stop worrying." He said and he was probably just as surprised as Hummel if not more by how soft his voice sounded. He quickly turned around and left the room and, after grabbing some clothes from his bedroom, he headed to the bathroom.

Kurt sat still, waiting for Blaine to close the bathroom door behind him and then he got up, walking up to the mirror standing in his room. Loosening the blanket a little, he took in his disheveled appearance. He eyed the multiple hickeys on his neck, the bite mark on his shoulder and smiled bitterly at the sight of already forming bruises on his wrists – it would be a hell of a challenge to cover it all up before going to work tomorrow. He sighed and looked up, noticing how his eyes, despite getting more grey, as they always did when he was stressed, how despite all of that, they held a little sparkle in them. It had been a while since he saw it there, Kurt couldn't even remember when was the last time he felt this… alive, even though his heart was still a little heavy from worrying. Shaking his head, he stepped from the mirror to grab some clothes from his dresser, he refused to believe that sleeping with Anderson had anything to do with that. Once again, he blamed his body for a human reaction. Dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a plain t-shirt, cringing slightly at the dried come on his chest, he took in the mess in his room, clothes on the floor and bent down to pick up his pants and shirt. After folding them, he went to the living room where he found more discarded pieces of clothing_. Interesting_, he thought as he laid them on the couch, he couldn't even remember how they got rid of them in the first place. Not knowing what to do with himself, he walked to the counter and leaned against it on propped elbows, his back to the hall between their bedrooms. Staring in the distance, he kept thinking much more calmly though than before. _Maybe Anderson was right. Maybe it all will be okay._

So lost in thought, he completely missed the shower turning off and the bathroom door opening. He didn't realize he wasn't alone in the room until he felt the press of a warm body against his back. He instinctively tensed, but Blaine's hands on his hips and soft lips against his neck made him relax and he simply couldn't explain why, he knew that he definitely should react in an opposite way.

"Are you done freaking out?" Blaine murmured against his neck, his wet curls tickling his cheek.

"We can't do this." Kurt replied though his voice sounded weak even to him. "We can't."

Blaine chuckled quietly behind him. "You sound so convincing. But-" He said, his teeth grazing teasingly on the lobe of Kurt's ear. "-life's too short too even care at all." He hummed quietly and squeezed Kurt's hips before letting go, and Kurt instantly missed the warmth of his body, so distracting yet so calming at the same time.

Not moving from his spot, he heard Blaine shuffling away and a quiet "think about it" as he left the room, leaving Kurt, once again, conflicted and with a mess of thoughts in his head.

* * *

**Review?**

**K. xx**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Kurt didn't get any sleep that night. The dull ache in the bottom half of his body made it almost impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in, so after tossing around, he gave up. In addition, his bed smelt of Anderson and sex, so no matter which side he turned to he constantly was reminded of what happened earlier that evening. Ever since Blaine had left him alone in the kitchen, Kurt had been a mess. The guilt twisting deep in his stomach and heaving him down made it impossible to concentrate on anything else, and Kurt was trapped between self-loathing and panic. Sleeping with Anderson was bad enough, but on top of it, despite his best efforts, he found himself wanting it again. Feeling that way was unacceptable and it made him feel even guiltier. He knew that all he had to do was ask – Blaine had made it clear. It was against everything Kurt believed in, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wipe the memories of Blaine's hands, mouth, and his body on top of him, from his head. While he knew that giving in was absolutely wrong, he had a hard time trying to silence the little devil inside of him, telling him to screw it all and not care about anything.

Kurt got up, and after taking a few steps, he winced. It was obvious that walking without a slight limp was going to be impossible that day. After looking in the mirror and taking in now clearly visible bruises on his wrists, the trail of hickeys on his neck and a bruise on his shoulder from Blaine's bite, as well as the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, he made a decision. Even after covering them up, he knew that as soon as he appeared at the Bureau, maybe not everyone, but surely Santana, would know exactly what happened. So, he decided to do something he did only under extraordinary circumstances – he called in sick. Being in charge of the entire team, he didn't have to get any consents from the superiors, but he still had one call to make, so he dialed the number.

"Hey, Kurt, what's up?" Mike's voice sounded through the phone.

"I need a favor." Kurt said, doing his best to sound weak and tired. He actually didn't even have to pretend that much – he was exhausted. "Could you come by on your way to work and take Anderson to the office with you?"

"Yeah, sure." Mike replied easily, but then the concern appeared in his voice. "But why? What's wrong?"

"Apparently, I caught a stomach bug or something; I've been puking all night." Kurt lied, hoping his friend wouldn't see right through it. However, it seemed liked he didn't have to worry.

"Oh man, that sucks." Mike said sympathetically. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'll be fine soon. Just let me know when you're here and I'll send Anderson down, I don't want you to catch this plague as well."

"Will do. Get better soon!"

After Mike hung up, Kurt sighed deeply. He felt a little bad for lying to his best friend, but it was necessary. He knew that neither he nor Santana would ever judge him, hell, Santana would probably high-five him, but he wasn't going to risk their careers as well. Dressed in his old hoodie and a pair of yoga pants, he limped to the kitchen, and after making himself coffee, he sat by the counter. Glancing at the clock, he figured he still had at least twenty minutes of peace and quiet before Anderson got up, so he closed his eyes and focused solely on the smell of coffee, letting it wake him up completely, trying to get ready for another, most likely, difficult day.

* * *

Blaine couldn't remember the last time he woke up in such a good mood. Stretching lazily, he lied on the bed, enjoying how relaxed he felt. He probably would have stayed like this longer, but a loud rumbling in his stomach reminded him that the last meal he had was a quick sandwich, before leaving the Bureau the day before. His stomach grumbled again. He was always starving after sex and yesterday he hadn't gotten a chance to grab anything after he had left Hummel in the kitchen. Blaine chuckled as he remembered the disturbed and stressed look on the agent's face. He knew that the few words they exchanged in the kitchen, after he had fucked him senseless, had left him even more conflicted and worried, and Blaine really enjoyed the internal torture Hummel was most likely going through. He ignored the little tug in his chest, just as he did the day before. He never felt bad after being an asshole, but he was probably a bit out of practice.

After a quick visit to the bathroom, he walked into the living room and the sight that greeted him he definitely wasn't expecting. Sitting by the counter was Hummel, but Blaine had never seen him like that. Instead of being ready to go to work, he was wearing a hoodie that had clearly seen better days, his hair was disheveled, Blaine also noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how his skin was even paler than usual. With a small satisfaction, he eyed the line of hickeys on his neck, disappearing under the hoodie and, when the agent raised his cup to drink and one of the sleeves rolled down, Blaine caught a glimpse of the dark, hand-shaped bruise covering his wrist. He looked like a mess. Hot, beautiful, well fucked, but still, an exhausted mess.

"Hummel, you look like shit." Blaine said in lieu of greeting. "Bad night?" He asked with a wink and walked to the fridge.

Kurt said nothing, didn't even move an inch. While he had been sitting there, he had time to prepare himself for this conversation, so when he spoke, he sounded deadly calm and collected.

"Mike should be here any minute. You'll go with him to the Bureau."

Blaine looked at him in surprise. "Playing hooky, Hummel? I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as someone who misses even a day at work."

"I have a stomach bug." Seeing Blaine raise his eyebrows questioningly, he fixed him with a firm glare. "And I'd like you to go along with this version." Saying that, he got up and walked over to put the dishes in the sink. Seeing him limping around the kitchen, Blaine smirked knowingly.

"I guess you can't show up at work walking like that unless you want them all to know what's up. Or rather, what was up your ass last night." He snickered.

Kurt turned around and looked at him tiredly. "Stick to the bug version." He repeated. "If you don't, I'll make sure you're going back to prison before they fire me. If I'm going down, you're going down with me."

"Oh, I have no problem with going down. How about tonight?" Blaine smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt shook his head, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by his phone buzzing on the counter. "Mike's here." He said, after a quick glance at the screen. He eyed the ratty t-shirt and sweats Blaine was wearing. "Get ready, I'll tell him you'll be down in five minutes."

Blaine rolled his eyes and went to his room. After quickly throwing a plain t-shirt and his jeans on, he went back to the living room. He grabbed his leather jacket from where it was lying on the couch.

"Thanks for picking it up from the floor for me gorgeous." He said with a wink as he put his jacket on. With that, he walked out of the room and seconds later, the slam of the door echoed through the apartment.

Kurt stood in a silence, interrupted only by a text from Mike, saying that Anderson was already in his car. It felt weird, being alone in the apartment, after the past few days filled with a constant presence of the forger. He decided to enjoy it while it lasted, so he curled up on the couch with Satine, intending to watch some reality shows to make his brain focus on something else and take a break from all the worrying. Scratching Satine behind her ears, he let himself immerse in Project Runway reruns, determined to relax and clear away all the troubles and confusing thoughts that had taken over in his head.

* * *

When Blaine made his way down and exited the building, he immediately noticed Mike Chang waiting in the car parked right in front of the main entrance. The window was open and the agent was bobbing his head and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in the rhythm of the song that was playing on the radio. He smiled widely when he saw him, nodding his head in the direction of the passenger seat, never stopping his little choreography. Blaine watched with amusement as the agent began air drumming and couldn't help but grin. As he learned during the past two days, it was impossible not to like Mike Chang and he was actually the only agent Blaine had no negative feelings towards – out of the few that didn't stare at him with disdain every time they saw him, he was the only one who was openly kind to him. His reasoning behind it remained a mystery to Blaine, but he wasn't going to complain. Without being able to contact Wes, it was nice to talk to someone about something enjoyable and not work or Smythe related. They actually had quite a lot in common; sports, comic books and, as Blaine was starting to notice, love for music. If you ignored the tiny little detail that Mike was a fed and Blaine was a convicted criminal, the forger would actually call him a friend. He got into the car just as the song ended and Mike turned the volume down, so they would be able to hear each other.

"How's Kurt?" The agent asked, as he started the engine and started driving.

_Just fine, sore from how hard I fucked him last night, but other than that, he's peachy._ "As well as a person can be after puking all night, I guess." Blaine said, going along with the lie. He had meant what he said the night before, he wasn't going to rat Hummel out, he valued his life outside of prison way too much. And if it meant sticking to the little story Hummel came up with, well, let it be that way. Mike just nodded, focused on his driving in the busy traffic and Blaine was somewhat glad he didn't press for any more details. During his many years of stealing, forging and conning people, one thing he had learned for sure was that the more detailed the lie was, the more likely it was to fuck up at some point. Especially if there were more people involved in it.

Eventually they got to the Bureau building and when they entered the office and reached Mike's desk, Blaine plopped down on one of the chairs standing nearby, and the agent started going through some papers lying around in the neat, organized piles. The comfortable silence was interrupted by Santana walking up to them.

"Where did you lose our precious elf?" She asked, noticing just the two of them, looking around in search of Kurt.

"He's sick." Mike replied with a wince. "Stomach bug."

Hearing that, Santana's eyes snapped to Blaine and she took a large step away from him. "You stay away from me, Frodo." She said, narrowing her eyes and scowling at him warningly. "You're probably already infected as well, and seeing as it might be actually a weekend during which we won't have to work, I don't intend on spending it puking my guts out."

Blaine, unimpressed by her murderous glare, raised an eyebrow. "You work during the weekends?"

"Not exactly." Mike said, making Santana scoff. "In theory, we don't."

"But in practice, whenever we're needed, we drag our asses in." Santana finished, rolling her eyes. "Which has happened too many times in a row during the last two months."

"Your lives sound truly fantastic." Blaine sneered, leaning back on the chair.

"The sooner we find your bestie, the quicker we'll get back to our normal schedules. So, get your ass up and make yourself useful." Santana fixed him with a pointed glare and marched off, her heels clicking loudly on the floor in the office.

Blaine rolled his eyes and ignored the rage that was always building up in him every time he thought about that two-faced prick, focusing on how great it would feel to see his ex-partner behind the bars. Most importantly, he wanted to witness the moment of Smythe's capture, he could easily imagine the shock and surprise in his eyes and his annoying smirk being finally wiped off of his sleazy face.

As it turned out, there wasn't much work for him to do that day. They didn't have any new leads and Blaine couldn't do much without having anything to process, compare or solve. Instead, after finding out that all FBI had were some blurry photos, he spent most of the time drawing a portrait of Sebastian, no matter how much it annoyed him to see his face coming from under his hand. It certainly wasn't his best work, the only thing he had was a blue pen and it was far from a good drawing tool, but Blaine managed – he wasn't being called the best for no reason. By the time of lunch, he had a sketch ready and couldn't help the satisfaction that spread through him when Mike had stared at the drawing in awe after Blaine had presented it to him. Either the agent hadn't seen any of his previous works or it just seemed more impressive when he saw the process happen right in front of him.

With the sketch done and nothing Smythe related to do, Blaine, bored out of his mind, started to flip through the files from different cases, lying on Mike's desk. Completely by accident, he came by the case of a stolen and forged Rembrandt where the FBI suspected one of the forgers Blaine happened to know quite well. The guy was one of the most annoying creatures in the world, constantly trying to compete with Blaine, had always ended up being worse which ensued him throwing a small tantrum every time they bumped into each other. Not having enough evidence to prove him guilty, the FBI was stuck and Blaine was more than happy to help. After asking if he could take a look at the forged copy of the painting, he examined it thoroughly with UV light and a big magnifying glass, finding exactly what he was looking for – the small, barely visible signature that idiot had always left on his copies, too proud and confident to stop himself. He also directed the agents to a few places where it was most likely for them to find the forger. After that, Mike decided they did a good job that day and definitely deserved to go home early. As they headed out, Mike waved and winked at Santana, who was glaring at them from above the report she was writing, clearly jealous of their early departure. When she rubbed her nose with her middle finger, subtly flipping him off, he laughed loudly, shaking his head, which made her stick her tongue out at him in return.

"You act like you're five, who even let you work here?" Blaine asked, observing the exchange with an amused smirk.

"Being serious all the time gets boring after a while." Mike shrugged with a smile. "Trust me, I tried, it's not worth it."

"You should tell that to your boss." Blaine mumbled quietly as they walked into the elevator, thinking about Hummel and wondering if the man ever did something for fun or laughed at anything else than helpless criminals he interrogated.

Mike either didn't hear him or pretended not to, because he said nothing, and they spent the walk to the car and the ride in a comfortable silence, only broken by light comments and remarks about the songs playing on the radio or the lousy skills of some of the drivers on the streets. When they pulled up next to Kurt's building, Mike shut the engine and took out his phone. After a few minutes of silence, Mike frowned and put the phone back in his pocket.

"Kurt's not answering." He said, trying to sound casual, but Blaine picked up the slightly worried tone in his voice. "If he's vomiting again, it's not very likely he'll open the door when you knock."

Blaine knew that was definitely not the case since Hummel didn't in fact have a stomach bug, so there had to be another reason for him to not answer his phone, but since he couldn't say anything, he stayed quiet, not disturbing Mike's train of thought. "I have the keys to his apartment, but I left them at home, it'll take so much time to go and get them." The agent groaned.

"You know," Blaine started nonchalantly. "I could always pick the lock. It would save us all that driving."

"Pick the…" Mike started saying, but stopped when he noticed the set of lock-picks Blaine pulled out from… somewhere. "How did you get this?" He asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

"It's been patiently waiting for me, along with the jacket and other stuff, in the prison magazine." He said, smiling and playing with the tools, touching them almost lovingly.

"And the guards didn't find it?" Mike asked disbelievingly.

"Let's just say that not everything is visible at first sight." Blaine said, smirking and hiding the lock-picks back in the pocket. "So? Are we going?"

"Oh man, you totally have hidden pockets in your jacket." Mike said and laughed, shaking his head. "Kurt's going to kill me, but I _really_ don't want to drive home just because of those keys."

Blaine internally sighed in relief. If they rang the doorbell and Hummel opened the door, Mike, without a doubt, would notice the hickeys on his neck and would definitely put two and two together. This way, there was at least a chance for Hummel to hide before he saw him and pretend to be sick. The men got out of the car and made their way to the main entrance of the building. Nodding to the doorman, they headed for the elevators, and Blaine could see Mike growing more and more excited as they were getting closer to the right floor. When they exited the elevator, Blaine took out the lock-picks and smirked seeing the look on Mike's face, the agent looked like a child that was about to unpack the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree. They reached the door to Kurt's apartment and Blaine started working on the lock, shooting a wink to Mike who was staring at him with pure fascination. Thankfully, Hummel didn't bolt the door, so after barely a minute, the lock clicked softly and Blaine opened the door quietly. He walked into the small hall and was about to call out to Hummel that they had a visitor, but with a quick glance into the living room, he realized that wasn't the best idea. Hummel was lying on the couch and, judging from the fact that he still didn't move, was deeply asleep. It wasn't such a bad thing, now Blaine only had to stop Mike from going further into the apartment. He quickly took a step back and raised his hand to stop the agent, putting his finger over his mouth and gesturing to the sleeping figure in the living room. Looking in the direction of the couch, Mike nodded in understanding and took a few steps back to the front door.

"There's no point in waking him up, so I'll be going." He whispered and quietly opened the door. "Oh, and Blaine?" He called, already standing in the corridor. "Just a warning, he gets bitchy when he's tired, so better stay out of his way tonight." Smirking teasingly, he waved and shut the door, leaving without giving Blaine a chance to answer. _Tired or not, he's always bitchy, _he thought, rolling his eyes, although, as soon as he did, he realized that it wasn't exactly the truth. Actually, if Blaine was being honest with himself, most of the agent's snarky retorts and cutting comments usually came after Blaine attacked first.

Shrugging it off, he walked into the living room and, as he got closer to the couch, he noticed Satine curled up right next to Hummel. When the cat noticed him, she stretched and jumped off the couch, as if she was only keeping an eye on Kurt until Blaine got home. The forger frowned at the cat's mistaken opinion about him, Hummel wasn't really sick and didn't need anyone to take care of him – even if he did, Blaine certainly wasn't the person that would do it. He looked at Hummel, at the still present dark circles under his eyes and the distressed features of his face, and the goosebumps covering the bits of skin peeking from under the hoodie. Before he even thought about it, instead of heading to his bedroom right away, he grabbed the blanket lying on the back of the couch and covered the agent with it. Figuring the longer Hummel slept, the more time he wouldn't have to deal with him, Blaine quietly retreated to his room, deciding to busy himself somehow until the agent was awake and would undoubtedly want to know how the work went. Closing the door, he grabbed the notebook and the pencils lying on the dresser and, after making himself comfortable on the bed, he began to draw.

* * *

Kurt woke up to some noise and the soft sounds of the piano. Confused, he sat up, noticing the blanket covering him, which was weird, because he definitely didn't remember grabbing it. He frowned and focused back on the noise. He highly doubted he was being robbed, besides the music pretty much meant it was Anderson. It seemed as if Kurt had slept through him coming back. He was quite surprised the forger didn't wake him up by, for example, dropping a bucket of ice-cold water on his head. Well, maybe he had a good day and decided not to be a huge pain in the ass. At least that was what Kurt hoped.

Suddenly, the music stopped and, moments later, Blaine emerged from his bedroom. "Hey there, sleeping beauty." He said, walking to the kitchen and starting the coffee machine. Once again, it stunned Kurt how quickly the forger had managed to accustom to living in his apartment and how effortlessly he navigated around his kitchen.

"How's the office?" Kurt asked warily, dreading the answer a little bit, even though, rationally, he knew he shouldn't have anything to worry about. Still, he couldn't help but be afraid that somehow someone had seen right through his lie and their secret had been revealed. Alternatively, maybe Blaine decided he cared more about taking revenge on Kurt for putting him in prison than about going back there and chose to tell everyone the truth.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Blaine chuckled, but seeing the slightly panicked expression on Kurt's face, he rolled his eyes. "It was fine. Everyone believed you're sick, if that's what you're worried about."

The relief washed through Kurt's body and he let out the breath he was holding. Calmer, he reached to grab his phone from the table and saw two missed calls from Mike. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head when he realized that Mike had probably called to tell him they were back, and ask him to open the door. "Wait, how did you get into the apartment? Mike let you in?" He asked, eyeing Blaine with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"You could say so." Blaine chuckled, grabbed the mug with his coffee and headed back to his room. Kurt frowned and it wasn't until the door behind him closed when the realization dawned on him and his eyes widened.

"Blaine Anderson, you did NOT pick the lock to my apartment!"

The only response he got was a loud laughter echoing through the apartment.


	9. Chapter 8

**Yes, I'm alive! Sorry it took so long. To make up for the long wait, here's the longest chapter so far :)**

**One details for this chapter - in case you don't know, BAU stands for Behavioral Analysis Unit (if you watch Criminals Minds, you know what I'm talking about)**

**Enjoy! Oh, and Happy New Year!**

**I own nothing, as always.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The weekend had passed uneventfully, for which Kurt was grateful. He was relieved he didn't have to interact with Anderson that much, but also, truth to be told, a little surprised. He did plan to avoid Blaine as much as possible, but the forger made it surprisingly easy. He rarely left his room, spending most of the time playing the piano or painting something, judging by the smudges of paint covering his shirt. Once, when he was in the bathroom and left the door to his room open, Kurt caught a glimpse of an easel standing in the middle of the room, and briefly wondered how the hell it got there. He figured Anderson must have brought it in parts, in one of those huge bags his friend gave him on the day Kurt picked him up from prison. Glad Blaine was occupying himself with something different than making Kurt's life a living hell, the agent burrowed himself in his bedroom as well, enjoying his first weekend off in months, his mind a little bit more at ease than on Friday.

It wasn't until he grabbed his phone that his bliss came to an end. Checking a few things, he caught a glimpse of the calendar and his blood went cold when he realized which date fell on the following Wednesday. He couldn't believe that he forgot, although it was justifiable when he thought about it, with how busy he had been for the last few days. Closing his eyes, he sighed. First thing on Monday morning, he had to have a conversation with Johnson and he had no idea what to expect from it.

* * *

"Sir? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Kurt asked, stepping into Johnson's office and glancing around nervously. Being in that room always made him feel uneasy, but he hoped he hid it well enough for his boss not to notice.

"Agent Hummel. What can I do for you?" Johnson said, taking off his reading glasses and focusing his attention on Kurt.

The agent took a deep breath. "Sir, you know how I always take a few personal days in October to go…"

"Right, right, of course." Johnson interrupted. "It's this week, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." Kurt nodded. "I'm really sorry, I know I should have mentioned it earlier…"

"Nonsense." His boss interrupted, again. "With all that's been going on, it's understandable it had slipped your mind. How much time do you need?"

"I thought about going tomorrow and coming back on Thursday afternoon, so I'd be back at the office on Friday, if that's alright."

"Absolutely." Johnson nodded. "Anything else?"

"What about Anderson, sir?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"That's up to you, Kurt." The older agent said. "You can take him with you; there won't be much work in Smythe's case without you here anyway. But if you'd rather be alone, we can place him with another agent for the next few days."

Kurt bit his lip and looked down, trying to weigh his options, but deep down, he already knew what he wanted to do.

_Life's too short to even care at all._

Kurt closed his eyes and pushed the words away, trying to block them from his memory. Making up his mind, he looked up at his boss.

"There's no point in bothering other agents, sir." Kurt said, his voice calm and even, a total opposite of what was going on inside of him. "He can go with me."

"Alright. I'll notify the marshal's office so they can change the radius on his ankle monitor."

"Thank you, sir." Kurt replied and with a polite nod, he exited the room. On the way back to his office, he bumped into Mike and Santana.

"Hey, what was that about?" Mike asked, nodding in the direction of Johnson's office.

"I had to talk to him about taking the next few days off." Kurt said and his friends' eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh, crap, it's October." Santana muttered, exchanging a look with Mike.

"You're going tomorrow?" The Asian agent asked.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, until Thursday."

"Wait, what about your hobbit roommate?" Santana asked.

"He's coming with me." Kurt replied, silently hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions or want him to elaborate because he had absolutely no idea what to tell them.

"You're sure? He can stay with us for those few days, Tina won't mind." Mike offered.

"Thanks, Mike, but no." Kurt shook his head. "I could actually use some distraction and Anderson sure as hell can provide one."

"Okay, if that's what you want." Mike said. "Anything else we can do?"

"I'm fine, but if one of you could stop by my place while we're gone and feed Satine, I'd be grateful."

"I'll take care of that." Santana said immediately and when both men looked at her, surprised by her eagerness, she shrugged with a smirk. "What? I love that cat, she's pretty badass."

Kurt smiled, but he was sure his friends could easily tell it wasn't genuine, and he wasn't even trying, there's was no point in trying to fool them. "Thanks. Now, don't you have some work to do?" Kurt said, gesturing at the files both agents were holding.

"And here's the boss mode again." Santana snickered. At Kurt's pointed look, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, we're going. Come on, Chang, or he'll fire us."

Mike burst out laughing. "I'd like to see him try." He said with a smile. "If we don't see you today, call us if you need anything." He called over his shoulder, as he and Santana started to walk away.

For the rest of the day Kurt locked himself up in his office, shielding himself from any human interactions. He could see Anderson sitting in the conference room, studying some cases they suspected Smythe could have been involved in, and the agent really hoped he was getting somewhere because Kurt, personally, had no idea what to do next and was getting absolutely nothing done. Staring at the files at his desk, he completely lost track of time, and deeply in thought, he missed Blaine getting up from the table in the conference room.

"What's wrong?" Blaine's voice suddenly broke Kurt out of his reverie, making him jump in his chair. Startled, his head snapped up and he saw Anderson leaning against the doorframe, smirking, apparently very amused by Kurt's reaction.

"Jumpy much, Hummel?" He said, grinning at the death glare Kurt sent his way, and stepped into the room, closing the door. "So, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think there's anything wrong?" Kurt answered with a question and nearly smacked himself, knowing that it was the most common way of evading the real answer and fully aware that Blaine knew that as well.

The grin on Anderson's face grew wider. "You've been reading the same page for the last fifteen minutes." He said, gesturing at the neglected papers on Kurt's desk. "I highly doubt you're being that thorough, besides, I know you went to talk to your boss right after we got here. So…" Blaine drawled, looking at Kurt expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

Kurt stared right back him, still saying nothing and Blaine let out a loud laugh. "Hummel, you're like an open book. Come on, spill."

"Why do you even care?" Kurt snapped, glaring at the forger.

"Oh, I don't." Blaine shrugged. "But the moodier you are, the more unbearable it is to live with you, so I'd like to at least know the reason for it."

"Nothing's wrong." Kurt stated, raising his hand to silence Blaine when he opened his mouth to speak. "But we're taking a little trip."

"What? Where?" Blaine asked, looking at him with confusion.

"Ohio." Kurt said, getting up and collecting the files from his desk.

After the initial surprise, Blaine's eyes flashed with something else. "Ohio?!" He exclaimed angrily, his hands clenched in fists. "I don't know what the fuck you want to achieve by taking be back to that hell, but…"

"Have you ever thought that maybe not everything revolves around you?!" Kurt snarled, interrupting him and walking towards Blaine until he could look him right in the eye. "We're going to Lima. It has nothing to do with you." He said and stormed out of the office, leaving Blaine standing in the middle of the room.

The forger took a deep breath. He wasn't thrilled by the prospect of going back to Ohio, the place he had left right after high school, swearing he would never come back, but, at least, they would probably stay away from Westerville. He wondered why exactly they were going back to Hummel's hometown so suddenly, without any apparent reason; Thanksgiving was still a month away. Maybe a relative's birthday or another family occasion? Although, it didn't sit quite right with Blaine, judging by Hummel's reaction, it was something way less pleasant.

Well, one way to find out.

* * *

"I don't get why we have to drive." Blaine grumbled from the passenger seat, staring murderously at the clock that showed six o'clock in the morning, though it might as well be the middle of the night. "It's going to take us forever to get there."

"Are you even aware of how much last minute plane tickets cost?" Kurt asked without looking at him, busy navigating the streets of New York.

"They wouldn't be last minute if you didn't forget about whatever is happening this week." Blaine muttered grumpily.

"Stop whining. At least you don't have to drive." Kurt retorted, stopping at the red light.

"I could drive." Blaine offered, making Kurt turn to him and look him dead in the eye.

"No one drives my car, Anderson." The agent said and when the lights changed, he turned his attention back to the traffic. "No one."

Blaine raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Good luck driving for the next ten hours straight."

Not bothering to respond, Kurt kept driving and when he glanced in the direction of Blaine fifteen minutes later, the forger was in a deep sleep or at least it seemed so, his head leaning against the window. He looked so peaceful like that, so… harmless. It was almost hard to believe how far from the truth that impression was.

Kurt sighed and stretched his arms as much as he could without letting go of the steering wheel, and sat more comfortably, feeling his body starting to relax. Even though it took a lot of time, Kurt liked to drive to Ohio, from time to time, instead of flying; he had always liked road trips, ever since he was young. Feeling nostalgic, he pushed those memories away, focusing on the road and turning up the radio, loud enough to distract him, but not to wake Anderson.

Two hours later they were somewhere in Pennsylvania. The traffic wasn't so bad, so Kurt let his thoughts wander, humming mindlessly to the song playing currently on the radio. Between that and driving, he didn't notice that Blaine hadn't been asleep for quite a while and was studying him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Man, I haven't heard that song in ages." He said and turned the radio up, making Kurt gasp and jump in his seat.

"Dammit, Anderson." He breathed out, trying to calm his heart down. "Do you want me to crash the car?"

"Seeing as I am in it as well, no, not really. Also, it would be such a shame to destroy this car." At Kurt's glare, he chuckled. "What's going on with you anyway? You've been so jumpy lately; I wouldn't want to go into the field with you, only god knows who you would shoot by accident."

"I'm not jumpy." Kurt said through gritted teeth, but it didn't sound convincing even to him.

"Right." Blaine snorted. "More often than not, I've seen you staring into the distance with that weird look in your eyes and, I have to admit, I'm intrigued to know what's troubling you that much."

"Don't you have anything else to do than creepily analyze what I do?" Kurt asked coldly. "Hey, if you're that into profiling, the BAU needs more people, maybe you should volunteer."

"Hmm, I somehow think they wouldn't be so happy to take me in."

"I can't imagine why." Kurt replied sarcastically. "You're such a joy to work with."

Blaine laughed loudly. "You know it, pretty boy."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt shook his head incredulously, but said nothing, not even bothering to react to the nickname anymore. The rest of the drive passed in a similar way, they were either bickering over something or Blaine was humming along to the songs playing on the radio and Kurt was staring ahead of himself, pretending not to care, but quietly admiring Blaine's voice. They pulled over a couple of times, to stretch their legs and get some food and Kurt, true to his words, kept returning to the driver's seat every single time, making it clear that he was the only one to drive the car.

As they were getting closer to Lima, Blaine couldn't help but notice how Hummel's demeanor changed. The closer they were the more distant he became, getting lost in his thoughts, ignoring Blaine even when he said something provocative on purpose, to get a reaction out of him. It kind of felt as if they were going to a funeral, which didn't make any sense at all.

"So, are you going to tell me why we're going to Ohio?" Blaine asked, not able to stop himself from being curious which in turn made him a little mad at himself for being so intrigued.

"No." Kurt's answer was short and Blaine rolled his eyes. He had no idea why Hummel was being so fucking mysterious, but fine, if he wanted to be as stubborn as a mule, Blaine would let him. It's not like he cared.

They didn't talk after that, Kurt's thoughts drifting back to Lima as they drove and everything was beginning to look more and more familiar. Anderson had apparently decided to mind his own business, not saying anything and, judging by his closed eyes, sleeping again. Kurt knew that, eventually, he would probably have to tell him why they were taking this trip, but he would do it later rather than sooner.

Lost in thoughts, he wasn't aware of how quickly the time was passing and before he knew it, they were almost there. As if he was able to sense it, Anderson started stirring and then opened his eyes, yawning and stretching as he looked out of the window.

"Where are we staying?" Blaine asked as they passed the sign welcoming them to Lima.

"My house." Kurt replied curtly.

"Does your family know that you're bringing a criminal with you?" Blaine asked with a smirk. "Hummel?" He inquired when Kurt didn't reply, driving and staring blankly ahead of himself.

"It won't be a problem." He said, his voice sounding weirdly absent.

"If you say so." Blaine said dubiously, deciding not the bother anymore and let it go, and he turned his gaze to the neighborhoods they were passing. He used to visit Lima from time to time when he was in high school. Blaine wasn't sure, but him and Hummel were probably around the same age, it was a miracle they hadn't run into each other, not even once, all those years ago. On the other hand, maybe they had, they just hadn't paid it any attention back then.

Blaine was broken out of his thoughts by the engine stopping and he realized that Hummel parked the car in the driveway of a medium-sized family house. Completely dark, empty looking house.

"I sure hope you have the keys because it doesn't look like anyone's home." Blaine said boringly, arching his eyebrow, expecting a snarky remark in return, but nothing like that happened. The agent got out of the car without a word, grabbing his bag from the backseat, and started walking in the direction of the house.

_Well, that's fucking weird._

Taking his bag as well, Blaine exited the car, reaching the porch just as Hummel finished opening the front door. Following him inside, Blaine frowned when he noticed the empty racks and the lack of the personal items in the narrow corridor. His confusion deepened even more when he glanced into the living room, seeing all of the furniture covered with big, white sheets. It looked like no one had lived in that house for a very long time.

Turning around, Blaine saw Hummel, still standing by the front door, with a blank expression on his face, his eyes empty as he stared at one point on the wall.

"What…" Blaine started, not understanding, making Kurt's head snap in his direction.

"My parents are dead." Kurt said quietly, his voice dull and stripped of every emotion. "And tomorrow it's the fifth anniversary of their death."

And for the first time since they met, Blaine's words died in his throat, leaving him completely speechless.

* * *

It was the middle of the night and Blaine lied in his bed, way too awake for someone who had spent almost ten hours in the car, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to wrap his mind around what he found out about Hummel.

"I always call my neighbor before I arrive, Mrs. Lavender, she cleans up my room and stocks the kitchen for me. I told her I'm bringing a friend this time, so she prepared the guest room as well." The agent said quietly earlier that night, responding to Blaine's questioning gaze when he saw that the bed was neatly made and the furniture wasn't covered like in the living room.

That was the last time Blaine saw Hummel that evening. After leaving him in the room, the agent disappeared and was nowhere to be found. And when Blaine went to the kitchen to grab something to drink, a thought crossed his mind, how easy it would be to just open the front door and get away, cut his ankle monitor with something sharp, get rid of it and disappear somewhere in the middle of nowhere. However, Blaine found himself quickly dismissing the thought, surprised by how it didn't even seem appealing to him. Maybe he really did become a more responsible person when he was in prison, Wes would surely be proud of him. Or the desire to take revenge on Sebastian was simply too strong. No matter which one it was, Blaine turned back with one last glance at the door and headed back to the guest room.

Now, lying in bed, Blaine was starting to realize that maybe he had misjudged Kurt Hummel at the very beginning, the moment they first met. He had always resented him for locking him away and, for some reason, always pictured him having a perfect life full of happiness, joy and freedom, everything that Blaine had lost because of him.

_But it wasn't really because of him, was it?_ The quiet voice inside his head told him and it was right. It wasn't Hummel who made him lose everything. Sure, he was the direct person that did that, but it all started with Sebastian. Five years in prison, being FBI's mascot, all of it was Sebastian's fault. Blaine could feel the anger spread through his body at the thought of his former partner and he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing harshly through his nose, trying to calm himself. God, he hated him so much…

Suddenly, Blaine's eyes snapped open when the realization hit him like a freight train. Yes, he truly hated Sebastian Smythe, the urge to murder him filling every cell of his body whenever he thought about him, but what shocked him the most was the fact that he never felt that rage whenever he thought or interacted with Hummel. Sure, he felt annoyance, sometimes exasperation, but never that kind of overwhelming anger.

And in that moment Blaine realized that maybe he had never really hated Kurt Hummel.

* * *

When Kurt woke up the next morning, there was a short moment when he thought that he was in his apartment in New York and was getting himself ready for another day of working with Anderson, but the second he opened his eyes, he realized where he really was, everything coming back to him in an instant. The familiar, dull feeling settled deep down in his chest, as every year on this day, and he reluctantly dragged himself from bed, wondering if it would ever get easier.

Walking into the kitchen, lost in his thoughts, he looked up with surprise when he saw that Anderson was already there, sitting at the table and sipping his coffee. Acknowledging him with a nod, he opened the fridge, but, on a second thought, he realized that he wasn't really hungry at all, so he grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee, sitting on the opposite side of the table, deliberately not looking at Blaine. He wasn't in the mood to fight with him today, so he hoped that maybe if he wouldn't give him any reasons, the forger would, for once, leave him alone.

They sat in silence and Kurt was relieved to see that his strategy was apparently working. Finishing his coffee, Kurt looked up from the mug only to discover that Blaine was already staring at him, his hazel eyes studying him closely. Bracing himself, Kurt met his gaze, evenly looking back at him, waiting for an inevitable blow or cutting remark, but nothing like that happened. Anderson just kept looking at him and Kurt had to admit, it caught him a little off guard and he wasn't sure what to do.

"Any plans for today?" Blaine eventually asked, his voice deep and quiet, completely different from the usual tone he used with Kurt.

Kurt blinked a few times and then nodded curtly. "Let's leave in twenty minutes." He said, looking questioningly at Anderson and when he nodded, Kurt put the mug in the sink and headed upstairs, briefly wondering what the hell just happened, but deciding not to dwell on it and appreciate that he didn't have to put up with Anderson being an asshole.

True to his word, he returned downstairs about twenty minutes later and found Blaine leaning against the counter in the kitchen, already dressed and ready to go. Without a word they went outside and got to the car, and Kurt began driving, his heart aching more and more the closer they were getting to their destination. As Kurt pulled up in the parking lot next to the cemetery, he cut the engine, but didn't make a move to get out of the car. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this…" He started, noticing how tired he sounded. "But can I trust you to stay here in the car and don't go anywhere while I'm gone?" He asked, turning his head to look at Anderson.

"Yeah." Blaine replied shortly, raising his eyebrow at Kurt's slightly surprised expression. "Go, Hummel. I'll be here when you get back."

Hesitantly, Kurt opened the door and got out of the car, but before he closed the door, he leaned over to look at the forger again. "If you run, I'll find you." He said, trying to sound stern, but not entirely sure if he succeeded.

In return, Blaine rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly. "Just go, pretty boy."

Shaking his head, Kurt closed the door of the car and slowly started walking in the direction of the metal gate. Entering the cemetery, he felt a sudden rush of coldness going through his body and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Rationally he knew that it wasn't possible, but it always felt like the temperature dropped a couple of degrees at the cemetery, making it seem even more unwelcome than from afar.

The leaves were crinkling under Kurt's feet as he walked on the familiar path and the light gusts of wind made the branches of the trees rattle from time to time. Other than that, it was completely quiet, Kurt was the only one there and he was grateful for that. He didn't feel like being surrounded by other people, even if they were complete strangers, he just wanted to be alone.

Reaching the familiar tombstone, Kurt stopped in front of it, taking a shaky breath. Looking down at the names of his parents written on the stone, his heart clenched with pain, the same one he felt every time he came here.

"Hey, guys." He said quietly and sighed, crouching down and touching the letters on the tombstone with his fingers. "I'm… I really miss you. And I wish you were here, now more than anything. My life's such a mess, I could really use your help."

Deciding to screw everything, Kurt sat down on the cold ground, not even caring about getting dirt on his clothes. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just so tired of feeling so empty inside and being alone." He said, running his fingers through his hair. With another sigh, he shook his head deprecatingly – he was being ridiculous.

"Anyway." Kurt continued. "Mike is fine, so is Santana… They asked me to say hi." He said with a thin smile. "You know what. Ignore my previous babbling, that was stupid. I'm great." He added and briefly wondered if he was trying to convince them or himself. "I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?" Kurt let out a humorless chuckle. "I have everything I've ever wanted. My career at the FBI is advancing, I have the best friends in the entire world… And soon I'll find Smythe and lock him up, and that'll make me the happiest man alive."

"I… I hope you're doing great, wherever you are." Kurt continued softly after a short pause. "I hope you are happy." Standing up, he brushed the dirt of his pants. "I should probably get going, I don't even know if he is still in the car…" He trailed off, shooting a glance in the direction of the parking lot even though he couldn't see his car from where he was standing. Turning back to the tombstone, he smiled softly.

"Don't worry about me, mom." He said. "I know you always said that it's your job to worry, but I'm okay. Oh, and dad. I hope you're eating healthy. Don't roll your eyes at me, you know I'm right." He added teasingly, but his smile faltered when he imagined the expression on his father's face, knowing that he would never see that again. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then turned his gaze back on the tombstone for the last time.

"I'll be back next year. I'll see you then, so… don't go anywhere." Kurt joked weakly with a sad smile on his face and, with one last look, he turned around and walked away, heading back to the car and not daring to look back even once, knowing that it would probably break his heart. It had been five years and it still hurt exactly the same, and Kurt had lost hope a long time ago that it would get better with time. Most people said that time healed, but it didn't seem to work with him. To be honest, he wasn't even that surprised by that – it seemed like the universe had a weird fascination with making him suffer, enjoying it joyfully whenever life kicked him in the ass. It was exhausting, but Kurt had been fighting against the world all his life, he really should be used to that by now.

Reaching the parking lot, he breathed out in relief when he saw Anderson, leaning against the car, not in it, but at least he was still there. There was a tiny part of Kurt that was convinced the forger would flee the moment he left him alone, although it didn't make much sense when he thought about it, it would be much easier for him to run during the night; Kurt wouldn't even realize until he woke up in the morning and by then Anderson would already be far away.

"Don't look so surprised." Blaine said when Kurt got closer, his voice laced with amusement. "I told you I'd be here."

"Oh, yeah, because trust is such an important element in our relationship." Kurt said dryly with his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a shadow of smile.

"Touché." Anderson grinned.

Getting in the car, Kurt drove them back home and Anderson instantly disappeared into the guest room the moment they arrived. Not bothering with questioning it, Kurt busied himself with cleaning the house; dusting the furniture and making everything look at least a little more presentable. Lost in memories and work, he didn't even realize when evening came until it was so dark in the room that he could barely see anything. Grabbing an old blanket from the dresser in the hallway, he went outside and sat on the small bench on the porch.

Wrapping himself in the blanket, he took a deep breath, enjoying how the cold, crisp, autumn air filled his lunges and he glanced around. It was empty and almost completely dark, only one of the lamps on the house was working, a couple of street lamps lighted the street, and the silence was ringing in Kurt's ears. In New York, it never was fully quiet, the noise was always buzzing there and sometimes Kurt missed that kind of a complete silence, especially after rough days at the office. He sighed deeply. Here, in Lima, everything seemed to go slower, sometimes it felt like the time had stopped.

Kurt wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it wasn't long before the front door opened and footsteps sounded next to him. With a corner of his eyes, Kurt could make out the shape of Anderson's figure, as he walked outside and sat down on the steps.

"I was kind of expecting to find you in a far worse state." Anderson commented casually, turning his body so he was facing Kurt. "Actually, considering the circumstances, you've been handling it surprisingly well, I haven't seen you crying even once."

"I don't cry." Kurt replied automatically, wondering why Anderson even started that conversation, but after the entire day spent mostly by himself, Kurt actually felt like talking, even if it had to be to Anderson.

"How so?" Blaine asked and Kurt could see him tilting his head curiously.

"I just… don't." Kurt shrugged. "The last time I cried was at my parents' funeral."

Staring into the darkness, Kurt continued after a short moment of silence. "I didn't cry even when Santana was shot, two years ago. And it was bad. Like, really bad…" He trailed off, not understanding why he was telling Anderson this, but it felt good to share this with someone. Mike and Santana knew, of course, but they didn't mention it, knowing how much Kurt hated talking about it, which was making his confession to Anderson even more surprising.

"Maybe nothing that happened after that was as tragic for you as your parents' death." Blaine replied.

"But she's my best friend, I was a wreck when she was in the hospital." Kurt argued, but, deep down, he had a feeling that Anderson might have a point.

"But she pulled through." The forger said quietly. "Who knows, maybe it would be different for you if she didn't."

"I don't really want to know if something like this has to be a price." Kurt replied, shaking his head to get rid of the images of his best friend being dead out of his mind. After that, they fell silent again, their breathing being the only sound surrounding them.

"Why did you bring me here?" Anderson suddenly asked and Kurt's eyes widened, and he was really glad that it was dark outside and the forger couldn't see his reaction.

"You're my responsibility." He replied evenly. "I'm the agent assigned to watch you, so where I go, you follow."

"Mhm." Blaine hummed. "I assume that's what you told your boss, maybe even your friends. But I'm asking for the real reason." He said quietly and Kurt's breath hitched. He tried to come up with an answer, but his mind went completely blank.

"I… I don't know." He admitted quietly, hating how weak his voice sounded.

Standing up, Anderson stretched, pulling his arms high above his head. "When you figure it out, let me know." He said and Kurt could hear in his voice that he was smirking. Not replying, he watched the forger disappear back into the house and when he was sure that he was gone, his mind drifted to what Anderson said. Deep down, he knew exactly why he brought him here. A distraction. But it was easier to just think about it, instead of admitting it out loud.

Making up his mind, he tossed the blanket aside and went back into the house. Slowly, he headed upstairs, stopping by his room to grab some things and then he walked up to the guest room, standing in front of the closed door. He could just walk in, he knew that the door didn't have a lock, but instead, he knocked and waited for an answer.

Seconds later, the door opened revealing Blaine who looked at him expectantly, arching his eyebrow questioningly, but not saying anything. They were staring at each other for a moment and, after releasing the breath he was holding, Kurt took a step forward.

"Make me forget." He whispered and the moment the words left his mouth, Blaine's hands gripped his hips and he pulled Kurt closer, crashing their lips and wrapping his arms around his waist while Kurt's arms circled his neck, and he moaned into the kiss when Blaine sucked on his lower lip, slowly but surely backing them in the direction of the bed.

And suddenly, Kurt didn't feel so empty anymore.

* * *

**Any thoughts?**

**K. xx**


	10. Chapter 9

**Okay, so... I don't even know where to start. I am so sorry it took me so long, I know it's been over 8 months since the last update and believe me, I never intended to keep you waiting for such a long time. But life and this damn writer's block along with a lack of motivation got in the way, but I pushed through all of this and here we are, the next chapter is FINALLY done!**

**I don't know how many of you are still reading this story or how many of you decided to give up on it, but I just want to say something that I've been saying since the beginning - I will NEVER abandon this story, that I can promise you. I don't know how long it will take for me to post the next chapter, I truly don't know. All I can say, is that I'll do my best to write it as fast as I can.**

**To finish this overly long note - enjoy the chapter, I hope you like it :)**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Even though his eyes were closed, Kurt could tell they reached the bed when Anderson turned them around, and sure enough, seconds later the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He could feel Blaine's hands on his hips, but before he could push him down on the bed, Kurt turned his head, breaking the kiss.

"Wait, wait." He panted, unable to catch his breath, feeling Blaine breathing harshly against his skin. "My back pocket."

Hearing that, Blaine slid his hands down to Kurt's ass, cupping and squeezing it playfully before reaching in the left pocket. "Mmm, someone came prepared." Blaine hummed, chuckling deeply, as he took out a condom and a foil pack of lube. Not giving Kurt time to reply, he pushed him down on the bed, though much gentler than the first time they slept together, following immediately and crawling on top of him. Kurt sighed, feeling the weight of Blaine's body pinning him down, grounding him, and he tugged on his curls to crash their mouths together again, wrapping one of his legs around Blaine's hips to bring him closer and slipping his tongue into Blaine's mouth when he gasped at the brush of their already hard cocks against each other.

They kept kissing slowly, a complete opposite of the previous time, Kurt sliding his hands under Blaine's t-shirt, running them along his back, up and down, eventually tugging at the hem. Getting a hint, Blaine pulled away, sitting up and straddling Kurt and taking off the t-shirt. Noticing Kurt staring at his shirtless chest, a smirk ghosted on his lips as he bent back down, kissing him again, grazing his teeth against Kurt's bottom lip.

Arousal spiking through his body, Kurt gathered all of his strength and with one swift move, he turned them around, immediately latching his mouth to Blaine's neck. Sucking and nipping, he could feel Blaine's throat rumbling under his lips when he groaned at a particularly harder bite, while his hands tightened on Kurt's hips. Feeling Blaine trying to take off his shirt, Kurt was suddenly glad he decided to change after coming home from the cemetery and that he was wearing just a t-shirt and not a shirt with countless buttons, making it so much easier to get out of his clothes. Pulling away from Blaine's neck for a moment, he managed to take the shirt off, throwing it away and immediately bending back down, this time kissing Blaine deeply, groaning when he felt Blaine's nails slowly scratching his back.

Gradually, their kisses became faster and rougher and Kurt needed more, so he slid down from Blaine's body, lying on his side and trying to unclasp Blaine's belt and not stop kissing him at the same time. Blaine seemed to be just as desperate, working on Kurt's pants, with no success, and after a minute of fumbling, Kurt pulled away with a frustrated huff.

"This is not going to work." He panted, moving his hands to take his own pants instead and Blaine immediately understood, unclasping his belt without a problem and taking his jeans off along with his underwear, Kurt following not far behind. Tossing the clothes aside, they crashed their lips together again, Blaine rolling on top of Kurt once again, both men groaning loudly when he rolled his hips down, sliding their cocks together.

Ending the kiss with a bite on Kurt's bottom lip, Blaine started nipping along his jaw, moving his lips slowly until he reached Kurt's ear. "Don't you worry." He muttered lowly, his hot breath ghosting the skin and the tone of his voice making Kurt's blood boil. "I'll take such good care of you." Licking the earlobe and finishing with a teasing nip, Blaine moved down, gradually making his way lower, his teeth grazing Kurt's skin every now and then, relishing making the agent fall apart under him.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses on his abdomen, Blaine pulled away, ignoring the frustrated and impatient whine from Kurt and looked around the bed, searching for the lube he threw somewhere on the covers. Locating the foil pack with a triumphant huff, he positioned himself between Kurt's widely spread legs, taking a minute to admire the man lying in front of him. Spread out on the bed, with his mouth open as he breathed heavily, cheeks flushed, his lean, muscular body covered with a thin layer of sweat and his beautiful cock, hard and leaking at the tip, just waiting to be taken care of. Hummel presented a truly sinful sight and Blaine could feel his breath catch in his throat as he took him in, his own cock throbbing painfully in anticipation. Tearing the pack open, he poured some of the lube on his fingers and proceeded to rub them teasingly against Kurt's hole, relishing the frustrated noises the agent was making and the way he was squirming on the bed. Deciding to end his misery, he pushed his finger in, making Kurt moan wantonly and roll his hips down. Slowly working his finger in and out, Blaine bent down, dropping kisses on Kurt's thighs and abdomen, nipping the skin and deliberately avoiding his cock. Sucking a hickey on his hip, he added a second finger, going just as slowly, scissoring and pushing them deeper, enjoying how tight Kurt was.

"God, I… hate you." Kurt panted, moaning when Blaine moved a bit and blew some air on his cock, still keeping his distance and not touching it, and then attached his lips to his other hip.

"We've been over this, dear." Blaine muttered, smirking against Kurt's skin, biting a bit harder and slipping three fingers inside Kurt, laying his left arm on him to stop his hips from moving.

Burying his hands in Blaine's curls, Kurt tugged impatiently, not missing the groan Blaine let out, vibrating against his skin. With his hips pinned down and his cock hard and aching, Kurt was going insane as Blaine pumped his fingers slowly in and out of him. It was completely different then before when Blaine was rough and fast and Kurt had no idea what caused the change, but he really didn't have it in him to care about that, he just wanted Blaine to do _something_ before he would lose his mind. "Would you just fuck me already?" Kurt gritted through his teeth, tugging on Blaine's curls, eliciting a deep chuckle from him.

"Impatient, are we?" Blaine snickered, but obliged, sliding his fingers out of Kurt and grabbing a condom lying on the mattress next to him. Tearing the wrap, Blaine moaned as he put the condom on and coated himself with lube, stroking his cock a couple of times as he stared down at the debauched man spread out on the bed. Looking in Kurt's eyes, wide and blown with lust, he decided he was done drawing this out and bent down to kiss him hungrily. Positioning his cock against his hole, Blaine started pushing in and Kurt moaned in the kiss, wrapping his legs high around Blaine's waist, thrusting up, urging him to go faster. When he finally bottomed out, Blaine lifted himself a bit, not high enough to break the kiss, and braced himself on his forearms for better leverage. Slowly at first, he started thrusting in and out, in a steady rhythm, gradually picking up the pace, overwhelmed by how hot and tight Kurt was around him. Panting into Kurt's mouth, Blaine shifted a little, changing the angle and Kurt let out a loud moan as Blaine's cock hit his prostate, throwing his head back and breaking the kiss. Putting his hands on the sides of Kurt's head, Blaine lifted himself, thrusting faster and faster until he was slamming hard into Kurt, eliciting broken moans from him with every push of his hips. Trying not to slow down, Blaine managed to sneak one of his hands between them, wrapping it around Kurt's cock and stroking it rapidly.

"Come on, pretty boy." Blaine panted, matching the strokes to the thrusts of his hips and it only took a few seconds for Kurt to arch his back and let out a loud scream as he came, cum spurting out of his cock and covering their chests. Feeling Kurt clench around him made Blaine groan as he let go of his cock to steady himself above the agent and continue thrusting into him, fucking Kurt through his orgasm and desperately seeking his own release.

Grabbing Blaine's curls, Kurt roughly pulled him down, crashing their lips together again, biting down hard on his bottom lip as his hips stuttered and Blaine let out a long moan as he started throbbing inside Kurt, filling the condom with his cum. Gasping, he kept thrusting, wanting to make it last as long as possible, eventually slowing down and collapsing on top of Kurt.

With his face burrowed in the crook of Kurt's neck, Blaine panted harshly against his skin, breathing in the scent of his cologne, sweat and sex. After a couple of seconds, he slowly pulled out, sliding off Kurt's body and lying on his side. Tying the condom and throwing it into the bin standing next to the bed, Blaine glanced at Kurt who was lying on his back, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily and Blaine wondered if he would freak out as he did back when they slept together the first time. After a few minutes of lying like that in silence Kurt finally opened his eyes and with a deep sigh he sat up, bending down to grab his boxer briefs from the floor, and began putting them on. No freaking out then, at least not externally.

"You should stay, you know." Blaine said, stretching lazily. "And then I could make you forget again in the morning." He added with a sly smirk, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Looking at Anderson, nonchalantly spread out on the bed, Kurt would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted by the offer, but after a second, he shook his head. "We have to get back home tomorrow. It's a long drive, we'll have to leave early." He said, getting up from the bed, gathering the rest of his clothes and with one last look at Blaine, he headed towards the door, limping slightly with every step.

"I thought this was your home." Blaine said after a moment when Kurt was already in the hall.

The agent turned around to look back at Blaine and sadness flashed in his eyes. "This place hasn't felt like home in a very long time. Actually, I don't think it ever has." Kurt said quietly and walked away, leaving Blaine with a feeling of understanding spreading through him.

He had never felt at home in Ohio either.

* * *

True to his words, Kurt made them get up at an ungodly hour which, due to their late night activities, turned out to be even more cruel than a few days before. Half-asleep, Blaine somehow managed to get himself downstairs, hoping a cup of coffee would make him feel more alive. Unfortunately, it didn't do the trick which only proved Blaine's theory that there was a time when people simply weren't meant to be awake. Miraculously, Hummel seemed to be coping just fine, moving quickly and efficiently, and before Blaine even knew, they were ready to go. Getting outside, he leaned against the rail on the porch, and even in his half-asleep state, he didn't miss how the agent paused in the doorway, turning and glancing at the empty house for the last time. After that, he quickly shut the door, locking everything up, and the moment they were in the car, he drove away with no hesitation, not looking back even once.

Feeling his eyelids close, Blaine shook his head, desperately trying to stay awake, but it didn't seem to work. Eventually, he gave up, letting the sounds of travel and quiet music seeping from the radio lull him to sleep. After driving in silence for a while, Kurt glanced at the passenger seat and rolled his eyes when he saw Blaine was basically dead to the world. He should have expected this and tried to shove away the feeling of disappointment creeping up on him. Bickering and fighting with Anderson was a great way to make him stop thinking about his parents and Lima. It would also make time pass faster and there was nothing more Kurt wanted than to be in New York already.

Sighing, he rolled his shoulders and shifted in his seat. His body ached, in a way that was expected after the kind of night he had, but he didn't even mind that much. He just wanted to get home.

About two hours later, Kurt decided it was time for an early lunch and just as he pulled over, Blaine started stirring and opened his eyes, yawning loudly.

"Of course you would wake up when it was time for food." Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes.

"What can I say, pretty boy, my timing has always been impeccable." Blaine replied with a grin, stretching as much as he could inside of the car.

Since it seemed to work sometimes, Kurt chose to ignore him and parked the car, glancing at the diner he'd picked and hoping the food would be edible. Getting out of the car, he checked behind him to make sure Blaine was following, and headed inside the building, looking around and spotting an empty table. It didn't take long for the waitress to appear and take their orders and it also didn't take long for their food to arrive which made Kurt eye it suspiciously, quietly questioning its quality, but it looked well enough and he was hungry. He just hoped luck would be on his side today.

"Can I ask you a question?" Blaine suddenly asked, studying him curiously from the other side of the table.

"Since when do you ask for a permission?" Kurt retorted with a raised eyebrow, looking up from his salad.

"Fine." Blaine rolled his eyes. "What happened to your parents?"

The moment the question left Blaine's lips, Kurt stilled, his mouth hanging open and his hand with a fork freezing mid-air. _So much for not thinking about it_. Closing his eyes for a second, he took a deep breath, lowering his hand and looking back up at Blaine who was watching him with a neutral expression, no usual smirk on his face. "They were in a car accident five years ago. A driver of a truck fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed straight into their car. They died instantly." Kurt replied, feeling the sharp pain in his heart but managing to keep his voice calm and steady.

Blaine didn't reply right away, thinking how to put into words what had been on his mind since the moment he found out Hummel's parents were dead. "Have you ever considered the possibility…"

"Of it not being really an accident but someone trying to get back at me?" Kurt finished for him bitterly. "Yeah. You have no idea how many sleepless nights I spent thinking about it."

"And?" Blaine pressed further, leaning closer and trying to catch Kurt's gaze when the agent looked away again.

"I made sure everything was checked a couple of times." Kurt said quietly. "The car wasn't sabotaged in any way and the truck driver was shaken enough to believe he was telling the truth. He didn't have any connections to any of the people I might have pissed off." He paused, sighing and rubbing his eyes; he suddenly felt so much more tired. "It was… just an accident."

"I'm sorry." Blaine offered after a beat of silence.

Having enough time to shake himself out of the funk and more or less lock the painful memories away, Kurt looked at him with narrowed eyes and a shade of a smile on his lips. "That's it? No sarcastic remarks or biting quips?"

"Come on, Hummel, I'm not _that _awful." Blaine replied with a smirk of his own. "I can be nice if I want to."

"Right." Kurt scoffed with a dubious expression on his face as he stood up, stretching his arms above his head until he felt something cracking in his back. "Let's go. We still have a long way to go."

* * *

Going back to work wasn't as hard as Kurt was afraid it would be. Granted, he only had to get through it on a Friday and then it was the weekend, another two days off, days that Kurt spent cleaning the apartment and catching up on some of his favorite TV shows while Blaine was doing… something, Kurt wasn't exactly sure what. Sometimes the apartment filled with the sounds of piano, usually when Kurt was already in bed, reading or just about to sleep, and if he was being honest, he found it quite soothing, making him relax and fall asleep easier. It actually felt as if Blaine was giving him space, why, Kurt didn't know, but he appreciated it, using it to carefully put himself back together into the person the world knew him as, the cold and calm agent, professional and focused on one goal only – find Sebastian Smythe. It seemed to work just fine and on Monday he was all ready to go, trying to figure out their next step. In addition, in this whirlwind of feelings, he didn't even realize that, in his head, he started calling the forger by his first name instead of Anderson more often than not.

Seeing as they had no new leads, nothing that could help them figure out where Smythe was or what he was planning, Kurt decided they had to go over all the latest case files related to Smythe, hoping they would find something they previously missed. It was a long shot, but with nothing new to go on, Kurt had no idea what else to do. Ignoring Blaine's and Santana's grumbling and the deep sigh from Mike, he told them to shut it, even though he wasn't particularly looking forward to it either, but well, they were out of options. So here they were, much to everyone's chagrin, sitting in the conference room late in the evening, reading through the piles of documents and being just as stuck as they were in the morning when they were getting started.

"I'm so done with those files, I can't think straight anymore." Santana eventually groaned, dropping her head on the table and burying her fingers in her hair.

"Let's be honest, out of the four of us, I'm the only one that has ever been able to do anything straight." Mike quipped with a tired smile, making Blaine raise his eyebrows.

"Didn't know you were a lesbian, Satan." He said, yawning and stretching on the chair.

"Yeah, give me all the ladies." Santana drawled. "So I'm sorry if you were hoping for some action…" She started, waggling her eyebrows.

"Ew, no." Blaine interrupted, wrinkling his nose, startling a bit when he heard Kurt chuckling beside him. "God, we're like a fucking gay squad, I think Chang should be expelled."

"That's exactly what we've been telling him since high school, but he insists on sticking around." Kurt said with a grin.

"Maybe you're not as straight as you think you are and your subconscious is trying to tell you something." Blaine said, smirking as Santana snickered beside him.

"Maybe." Mike said, pretending to think about it for a few seconds. "Just don't let my wife hear that." He added with a wink, making Kurt and Santana shake their heads in amusement before Kurt sighed and went back to reading while Santana just disdainfully stared at the papers scattered across the table.

"Okay, enough of that." She finally said, shutting the file closed and glaring at Kurt when he opened his mouth to say something. "Admit it, Hummel, we're not getting anywhere with this and I'm bored. So Anderson." She turned to look at Blaine with a smirk. "Why don't you tell us something about Smythe."

Raising his eyebrow, Blaine set the file down, leaning back on the chair and staring at Santana with narrowed eyes. "What do you want me to say? I've already told you everything I knew and none of it turned out to be useful since I haven't seen the guy for five years and we didn't exactly part on the best terms."

"No, no, none of that boring crap." Santana waved her hand dismissively. "Tell us something juicy and personal about this psycho, I bet you know all about that since you've been hooking up for so many years." She said, her eyes twinkling devilishly.

"Honestly, there's not much to tell, he always kept mostly to himself, but I feel like I need to clear some things up." Blaine said slowly. "When you say "hooking up", you mean…"

"Fucking, dating, whatever." Santana interrupted, rolling her eyes impatiently.

"Well, that never happened." Blaine said, making Mike's and Santana's heads snap in his direction.

"Wait, are you saying you two never even slept together?" Mike asked, the surprise evident on his face and Blaine shook his head decisively, wincing as he involuntarily remembered the countless times when Sebastian tried to get him into bed.

"We've always assumed you were at least fucking." Santana said and Blaine could see she was just as surprised as Mike was. Something he couldn't say about Kurt who was sitting quietly, reading through the files calmly, seemingly paying no attention to them, but Blaine could see in the tension in his shoulders that he was listening to every word. Interesting.

"Business and sex don't mix well." Blaine simply replied, briefly glancing at Kurt again, suddenly realizing he kind of broke his rule the moment he started pursuing the agent and finally got Hummel to have sex with him. Moreover, the fact that breaking it wasn't bothering him at all was kind of intriguing since his rules were usually sacred for him, he set them for himself for a reason.

"Come on, not even once?" Santana exclaimed, still looking at him incredulously and Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're awfully disappointed by that?" He asked, narrowing his eyes and looking at Santana calculatingly, internally trying to figure out if he was missing something.

"No, it's just…" She started, leaning back in her chair and still staring at him with something akin to awe. "Looks like Kurt has been right after all and…"

Whatever Santana was going to say was interrupted by Kurt, who hadn't spoken a word in a while, sitting straight and closing the file with a loud slam. "You know what." He said, startling everyone with the abrupt movement. "Santana was right, we're not getting anywhere with these." He pointed at the files. "So let's call it a night and go home, there's no point in sitting here anymore."

The sudden change in his behavior didn't go unnoticed by anyone, but Santana appeared to take it all in stride, standing up and stretching before grabbing her bag. "Finally something sensible came out of your mouth, Hummel, I can practically hear my bed calling me home." She said and, with one last smirk, left the room, her heels clicking loudly as she walked down the stairs to the lower part of the office.

"See you tomorrow, guys." Mike said, gathering his things and leaving the room as well, chasing after Santana so they could grab the elevator together.

After they were left alone, Blaine and Kurt sat in silence for a few seconds, Kurt eyeing the files scattered all around the table and eventually deciding to leave them there until morning. Obviously, his friends conveniently vanished before he could even say anything about cleaning up, but he sure as hell wasn't going to do it by himself and he had a feeling Blaine wouldn't be much of a help either.

"Are you okay?" Blaine suddenly asked and when Kurt glanced at him, his eyes were narrowed and he was giving him this scrutinizing look that always made Kurt feel like he was glancing straight into his soul.

"Sure." He replied with a shrug, looking at Blaine with what he hoped was a puzzled expression on his face. "Let's go."

Blaine didn't say anything as they headed to the car, but he was still looking at him in that weird way, as if Kurt was a riddle he was trying to solve. Hoping he would let it go, Kurt focused on driving, letting his mind wander, knowing there probably wouldn't be any conversation happening between them during the ride back home. As it turned out, Kurt was right, he had known Anderson long enough, but he was wrong about one thing and really, he should have seen this coming. Assuming Blaine would give him a break had been a big mistake on his part.

"You've been quiet." Blaine commented when they reached the apartment and Kurt opened the front door.

"Why do you care?" Kurt rolled his eyes, swiftly moving to the living room and flopping down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"I…" _I don't_, Blaine wanted to immediately reply, but the words died in his throat. Goddammit, he was going soft. Ever since that night in Ohio when he realized he had never really hated Kurt, he discovered that he might have actually grown a bit fond of the agent. Yes, he was a pain in the ass, but Blaine learned to appreciate his quick wit and a sassy attitude, and he knew that if they had met under any other circumstances, they probably would have gotten along fabulously. Oh, Hummel would be such a great criminal, so slim, seemingly delicate and harmless yet lethal…

Shaking his head to stop his mind from railing away, Blaine focused back on Kurt, remembering he still had to reply. "I may, seeing as you're my roommate and your mood greatly affects mine, so I'd like to know what I'm up against." He said, deciding to go with his usual excuse.

Sighing and looking at the ceiling, Kurt closed his eyes. "I'm just thinking about what you said about you and Smythe being just business partners."

"What about it?" Blaine asked with a frown, not quite following.

"I just…" Kurt started, trailing off, seeming lost at how to phrase what he wanted to say. "You know, every agent has _that _case. That one case they dedicate their life to solving, that case they base their careers on." Kurt paused, not looking at Blaine, his eyes fixated on a point on the wall. "You and Smythe were that case for me, he still is. I have been studying you two for so long and there always was one thing that I couldn't understand, and what you said today brought me back to it."

"What was it?" Blaine asked, tilting his head curiously.

"How two people like you, so different from each other, could possibly be able to cooperate for such a long time." Kurt started, finally looking at Blaine, taking a deep breath and continuing. "Let me tell you what I've got so far and correct me if I'm wrong."

"You're an artist and you're also so well-organized, it always seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing, you had a goal and a detailed plan how to achieve it, no room for improvisation or mistakes. I actually admired your attention to the details." Kurt said with a small grin. "But then, whenever Smythe appeared in the equation, so did the mess." He said and he could see how right he was by the way the features of Blaine's face slightly darkened. "How am I doing so far?"

"Pretty well." Blaine muttered.

"That's why almost everyone assumed you two were a couple or at least sleeping together. They figured it would only be possible for you to work together for so long if it was for love or other kind of attraction."

"Almost everyone?" Blaine repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"I never really bought it." Kurt admitted with a shrug. "I didn't know you personally back then, or him, but… I kind of felt like I knew you through your work and I just couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that you could ever be with… him." Kurt spat the last word with disgust. "It just didn't sit right with me."

"Well, you certainly got it right." Blaine said quietly.

"It was just a hunch back then, though I became quite sure of it after the killings started." Kurt said, making Blaine's head snap up. "I knew… I knew it was all him. I knew you would never do something like that, it completely didn't fit with your MO."

"You knew?" Blaine repeated, looking at him disbelievingly and it must have been the first time Kurt had ever seen that look on Blaine's face.

"Why do you think the murder charges were never added to your sentence?" Kurt asked, smiling slightly when Blaine just stared back at him. "They wanted to add them, but I talked them out of it. All my research and reports, along with the profile from the BAU, were enough to convince them you most likely didn't have anything to do with those deaths."

"I always assumed there was no proof." Blaine said quietly, the disbelief still lacing his voice.

"There wasn't." Kurt agreed. "But they still wanted to add the charges, hoping the jury would just see you guilty of everything."

Blaine fell silent after that, trying to process everything he just found out. Having trouble wrapping his mind around it, he looked at Kurt who was sitting next to him, presumably waiting for him to say something, leaning his head against the back of the couch, absentmindedly petting Satine who somehow made her way onto his lap during their conversation.

"But why would you help me?" Blaine asked, confusion in his eyes as he tried to understand. "You hate me."

"I don't think I ever truly hated you." Kurt admitted, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Blaine. "I just convinced myself that I did. Because I should hate you on principle, you know? But I've come to realize that it doesn't exactly work like that."

Stunned into silence, Blaine sat still, staring at him with a bewildered expression on his face. After a few seconds, he shook his head with a small laugh, weighing his options and eventually decided to say what had been on his mind for some time. "I don't hate you either, you know." He said quietly and he could see how Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "Sure, you annoy me and piss me off, and I don't particularly like you most of the time, but I guess you can get used to it." He added with a shrug and a half-smile.

"Wow, thanks." Kurt said teasingly, with a small smile and it might have been the first time he genuinely smiled in Blaine's presence. "You actually never answered my question, you know." He added, looking at Blaine curiously. "Why did you work with him? How did you two manage not to kill each other?"

"It's a long story." Blaine eventually said, after hesitating for a few seconds. "And I could tell you, just… not tonight."

Nodding in acceptance, Kurt let the silence fall between them again. He had a feeling that was enough of emotional sharing for the evening, so after a moment, he cleared his throat and gestured at the TV. "So, how do you feel about _MasterChef_?"

"Used to be one of my favorite shows before I went to jail." Blaine replied, raising his eyebrow. "Why?"

"I'm a few episodes behind. Want to join me?" Kurt offered, turning on the TV and looking at Blaine questioningly.

"Sure." Blaine said, after a few seconds, tossing his leather jacket away and making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Wait." Kurt suddenly said, just as the episode was about to start. "Do you cook?" He asked, eyeing Blaine suspiciously, narrowing his eyes when Blaine nodded with a smirk. "Well, then maybe you would like to contribute to our household and take care of food for a change?"

"We'll see, pretty boy. We'll see."


	11. Chapter 10

**Holy shit, I swear to god, I did not see this coming. But hey, here I am, updating again, barely 2 weeks after the previous chapter! WHOA!**

**I don't know about you, but I'm excited af, so enjoy :)**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

They were running late. They were absolutely running late and yet there Kurt was, sitting on the couch, his pants and underwear around his ankles, with Blaine kneeling on the floor between his legs, his head bobbing enthusiastically as he moaned around Kurt's cock. Kurt had his fingers buried in Blaine's curls, tugging him forward and thrusting up as much as he could in this position, trying to fuck his mouth, feeling the heat boiling in his stomach as he felt himself getting closer, and it only took a few more seconds for him to come, groaning loudly and tightening his grip on Blaine's hair as his cum filled his mouth. Swallowing, Blaine eventually let go of Kurt's cock, releasing it with a soft _pop_ and licked his lips with a devilish grin before climbing up on the couch, straddling Kurt and kissing him deeply.

"Mmm, you're so delicious, gorgeous." He muttered against his lips and smirked when he felt Kurt's hands sneaking down to undo his belt. "I thought you said we're going to be late?"

"We are, but…"

"Leave it, gorgeous." Blaine said, nipping Kurt's bottom lip before leaning closer to whisper in his ear. "You'll make it up to me in the evening."

"We'll see about that." Kurt replied with a grin, pushing Blaine from his lap. Dressing himself quickly, he tried to smooth all the wrinkles on his suit and fixed his tie that was hanging loosely around his neck. Glancing at Blaine, he noticed his wild hair and sighed. "Do something with your hair, would you?"

"And whose fault is it that it looks like that?" Blaine retorted, trying to make it look a bit more presentable in front of the mirror. "You seem to enjoy tugging it, not that I'm complaining." He added with a wink.

"Of course you're not, you love it." Kurt said, looking at him pointedly and grabbing his keys, remembering _exactly _how it affected Blaine every time he did that.

"Not denying it, gorgeous." Blaine said with a grin as they left the apartment. While waiting for the elevator he glanced at Kurt's watch. "Anyway, what are we going to say at the office?"

Kurt looked at him, raising his eyebrow before sighing deeply, in mocking defeat. "Traffic can be a bitch in New York, Mr. Anderson. An absolute bitch."

* * *

Blaine was sitting in the conference room, staring outside the window, deep in thought. He had a feeling he was missing something, something that would help them crack the case, something significant they needed to move forward. Kurt was currently in a meeting with his boss and judging by the expression on his face before he went there, he wasn't really looking forward to it.

Sighing, Blaine rubbed his eyes, groaning internally in frustration. Sebastian was good, he had to give him that. In every crime scene there was nothing, nothing that could connect him directly to being there, he left no evidence behind, nothing, except those damn…

"Business cards." Blaine whispered to himself, sitting up suddenly and almost falling off the chair. He was sure the crime lab already processed them, but he knew about paints and inks more than anyone did; maybe he would be able to pick up on some hints. Feeling new energy inside of him, he quickly ran down the stairs, looking around the lower part of the office, searching for Mike or Santana. Not seeing either of them, he decided to approach another agent, a blonde guy who was currently pouring himself some coffee.

"Hey, where are the business cards that Smythe leaves at the crime scenes?" He asked.

"The evidence room." The agent replied curtly, the British accent lacing his voice, as he looked Blaine up and down.

"Okay, could you grab them for me?" Blaine asked impatiently, not wanting to waste any more time on some idle small talk.

"And why would I do that?" The agent said, making Blaine wonder if he was really that dense or if he had some other kind of problem.

"Because I don't have the access to it and I'd like to take a look at them?" Blaine replied slowly.

"The lab already did that." The agent said with a shrug and moved to walk around Blaine, but the forger was faster, stepping in front of him to block his way. "Besides, I'm not going to give evidence to a criminal so you could tamper with it."

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked as calmly as he could though he was sure his eyes were blazing with fire. "You do realize why I am here, right?"

"Honestly, I don't see the point." The man replied, rolling his eyes. "We can handle it. We don't need help from a good for nothing criminal who thinks he can play cop."

Figuring punching a federal agent would probably do him no good, Blaine clenched his fists in effort to stop himself from snapping. "Who the hell are you?" He gritted out.

"This is special agent Adam Crawford, the Interpol liaison with the FBI." A familiar voice sounded next to them and when Blaine glanced to his left, he saw Kurt standing there, watching them with narrowed eyes, taking in Blaine's tense posture and Adam smirking smugly. "Everything okay here?"

"It would be if special agent whatever would give me what I nicely asked for." Blaine growled, shooting daggers at the British agent and if looks could kill, the man would be dead already.

"Hello, Kurt." Adam said with a smile and the way he said Kurt's name along with the sweetness lacing his voice made Blaine boil inside. "Can you imagine, he wanted to see Smythe's business cards! God knows what he wanted to do with them." He added in a stage whisper, eyeing Blaine disdainfully and shooting Kurt a proud smile, as if he expected to be rewarded for his exceptional behavior. Reward being Kurt's kisses Blaine suspected, judging by how lovingly Adam was staring at Kurt.

"His job, probably." Kurt replied dryly, raising his eyebrow, completely ignoring the heart eyes Adam was sending his way and Blaine's angry expression slowly morphed into a smirk. "He's here to help, did you forget about that?"

"Come on, Kurt." Adam looked at him incredulously. "You can't be comfortable with letting him close to the evidence!"

"On the contrary, I'm very comfortable with that." Kurt said coldly. "Especially if he has some kind of idea how to use it against Smythe."

"Oh, please, what could he possibly find that the lab didn't already?" Adam exclaimed, staring at Kurt in disbelief. "And how can you know he won't mess it up on purpose to double-cross us and help out his buddy?"

"Because I trust him." Kurt replied simply, stepping between the two men, having a feeling Blaine wouldn't be able to stay calm much longer, especially if Adam kept insisting he was Smythe's _buddy_. "And this conversation is over now, so I suggest you get back to your work, agent Crawford." Kurt finished definitively, fixing Adam with a cold stare until the man turned around and walked away, mumbling something under his breath.

Sighing deeply, Kurt looked around the office. "You." He said to one of the younger female agents standing nearby making her immediately straighten up with wide eyes. "Get the evidence from Smythe's case and bring it to the conference room."

"Yes, sir." She replied quickly before scurrying away, almost running in the direction of the elevators.

"You can be scary if you want to." Kurt heard from behind him and when he turned around, he saw Blaine looking at him with... respect? He wasn't sure, he was usually good at reading people but Blaine could be hard to decipher sometimes.

"Sometimes I have to be." He replied with a shrug and after a few seconds, he gestured at his office, looking at Blaine questioningly. When the forger nodded in agreement, they climbed the stairs and when they entered Kurt's office, he shut the door and the curtains, making the room completely shielded from the outside.

"Did you mean it or did you just say it to get the Brit to fuck off?" Blaine suddenly asked, breaking the silence, looking at Kurt with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Mean what?" Kurt replied with a question even though he had a feeling he knew what Blaine was referring to.

"That you trust me." Blaine clarified.

"I did." Kurt said after a few seconds, looking Blaine straight in the eye. "I do trust you."

The truth was, he didn't even know he felt that way until the moment he felt anger spreading through his body when Adam insinuated Blaine could betray them. With a surprise, he discovered that somewhere along the way he really did start trusting Blaine, the man that not so long ago he was ready to swear he hated with every fiber of his being. Incredible how quickly things changed.

When Blaine didn't say anything, Kurt shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. "I suppose I should also apologize for Adam's behavior."

"Don't worry about that, handsome." Blaine waved his hand dismissively. "I don't care what he thinks about me. Although, he seems to care a lot about _you._" He added with a sly smirk.

"Don't even remind me." Kurt groaned, leaning against the wall. "He's been trying to get me to agree to go out with him for months."

"Why don't you?" Blaine asked, ignoring the wave of possessiveness rushing through him at the thought of Kurt going out with Crawford. _What the hell, _he thought with irritation, trying to shake it off.

"I don't know." Kurt shrugged. "Just… not my type, I guess. And he's kind of a dick." He added, rolling his eyes.

"I see." Blaine hummed, taking a few steps closer until he was standing right in front of Kurt. "You know what, I changed my mind, agent Crawford definitely hurt my feelings." He said with a pout, placing his hands on the wall, trapping the agent between his arms.

"Oh?" Kurt fought hard not to grin.

"Yeah, and I think that you, as his boss, should make it up to me." Blaine said, his voice dropping lower as his hazel eyes darkened.

"Mmm, should I maybe kiss your hurt feelings better?" Kurt purred, grabbing Blaine's leather jacket and pulling him closer.

"Seems like a good start." Blaine mumbled against Kurt's lips before leaning in and closing the gap, moving his hands from the wall to put them on Kurt's waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin material of his shirt.

Kissing back, Kurt gripped the jacket tightly with one hand, circling his other arm around Blaine's neck and he smiled into the kiss when he felt Blaine pushing him gently against the wall and pressing his body with his own. Breathing through his nose, Kurt closed his eyes and let himself get lost in Blaine's scent, consisting of his cologne, coffee and something else that Kurt could only describe as _Blaine. _They kissed slowly, without any rush, their lips moving together perfectly and Kurt let out a small gasp when Blaine slid his tongue into his mouth, squeezing his waist as he deepened the kiss, which was turning out way more sensual than any other kisses they had shared before.

Kurt's head was spinning, was it from the lack of air or something else, he didn't know, but when they pulled away, all he could think about was how much he didn't want it to stop. Breathing heavily, they stared at each other in silence, Kurt's heart beating wildly as he looked into Blaine's eyes, once again admiring their color, a mixture of hazel and honey, even though they were much darker at the moment than usually. Hyperaware of Blaine's warm hands on his waist; he slowly loosened his grip on the leather jacket, smoothing the wrinkles with his hand.

"Satisfied?" Kurt asked in a whisper, not trusting his voice, still keeping his arm wrapped around Blaine's neck, reluctant to let him go just yet, not missing the way the forger's gaze dropped to his lips for a split second.

Without a word, Blaine surged forward and kissed him again, hard, knocking the wind out of Kurt, pulling away after a few seconds. "For now." He breathed out against Kurt's lips and they stood still for a moment before Blaine slowly removed his hands from Kurt's waist and the agent slid his arm down from his shoulders, immediately missing the warmth of Blaine's body when the forger took a step back. Breathing in deeply, Kurt tried to compose himself when there was a sudden knock on the door. His head snapping up, he shoot a panicked glance to Blaine who reacted instantly, crossing the room quickly without making any sound, sitting down on one of the chairs next to Kurt's desk and schooling his expression into a bored one, leaning back and presenting a perfect picture of nonchalance. Straightening his shoulders, Kurt walked to the door, opening it and seeing the female agent he spoke to earlier.

"I put the box you asked for on the table in the conference room, sir." She said quickly, words stumbling out of her mouth.

"Excellent." Kurt replied and the woman nodded, smiling nervously and started to walk away. "Thank you." He added when she was about to go down the stairs and the wide, relieved smile she flashed his way made him snort in amusement when she was out of his sight.

"Looks like Crawford is not the only one with a crush on you." Blaine's voice sounded right behind him, making him jump and glare at the forger as he snickered.

"Stop sneaking up on me." Kurt hissed, but Blaine's grin only grew wider. "Besides, everyone here knows I'm gay."

"She doesn't seem to be bothered by that." Blaine said, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Shut up." Kurt rolled his eyes before pushing Blaine in the direction of the conference room. "Come on; tell me what you came up with."

"Well." Blaine started, opening the box and taking out the business card Sebastian, or rather Hunter, left at the latest crime scene. "I thought that maybe if we could figure out where he's getting them from, we'd be able to trace his steps somehow. I'm assuming he wouldn't go to a regular printing house, but have it done somewhere… more private."

Sitting at the table, he started examining the card carefully. "This is a high-class paper. Expensive. That already narrows it down a bit, but maybe I can do better than that." Blaine said after a minute, looking closely at the card. "Did the lab test the ink?" He asked Kurt who was sitting on the chair next to him, quietly watching him work.

"Yeah." The agent replied, reaching for the laptop standing on the table. After typing for a few seconds, he pulled up the results the lab sent in and he turned the laptop to Blaine. "There you go."

Studying the list of the ink's components, Blaine let out a surprised sound. "Well, this is unfortunate. For Sebastian, I mean." He clarified with a grin and Kurt impatiently gestured at him to elaborate. "I don't have anything to back my words with except my own expertise and knowledge, but you have to believe me when I say that this kind of ink is rare. Very rare. I know you're probably wondering why your lab…"

"I believe you." Kurt interrupted him, trying not to get his hopes up at the possible development in the case. "If it's so rare, then there shouldn't be a lot of people using it, right?"

"Exactly." Blaine agreed, a bit astonished how Kurt didn't doubt him at all. "In a matter of fact, there are only two people using it in New York and Sebastian could have gone to only one of them." Seeing Kurt look at him questioningly, he sighed. "The second one is out of the business, has been for years. And even if he wasn't, he's a good friend of mine and he wouldn't help Sebastian even if that weasel paid him with diamonds."

"I'm going to need their names." Kurt said, taking out his notebook and handing it to the forger.

"Kurt, please." Blaine said quietly and it made Kurt pause, it must have been the first time Blaine called him by his first name, except that one time in prison when Kurt showed up to offer him the deal. "He's been above board for a long time now, he turned his life around. He's a good guy and I give you my word that he had nothing to do with it. Please, don't look into him."

"Okay." Kurt eventually said after watching Blaine intently for a moment and noticing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "The name of the guy you think made those then."

"That one I'll give you with pleasure." Blaine said, the grin making its way back on his face as he wrote down the name. "Just a warning, he won't talk to you unless he knows for sure you have something on him. And we have nothing except for my word."

"Don't worry." Kurt replied, taking the piece of paper and reading the name, Malcolm Creebs. "We'll send Santana undercover, she'll get him talking. And when she has some kind of proof, we'll get him."

"Tread carefully, he's been doing it for a while, he's good." Blaine warned, but Kurt only smirked in return.

"Ah, but so is she."

* * *

A few days later, the undercover operation was in full progress and Santana was working on finalizing the transaction with Creebs, so they could catch him red-handed and use that fact as the bargaining chip to get some intel on Smythe. It wouldn't be long before that, but for now all they could do was wait, something Kurt hated, but there was nothing else he could do. He only hoped it would get them closer to finding Smythe because they could _really _use a solid lead right now.

Making himself some tea, Kurt watched Blaine who was lying on the couch, reading one of the books from Kurt's shelf, Satine curled up on his lap, purring in delight when Blaine scratched her behind her ear from time to time.

"What's on your mind, gorgeous?" Blaine suddenly asked, not looking up from the book, a smirk ghosting on his lips. "You've been staring for a while now."

"What did you miss the most?" Kurt asked after a moment, figuring there was no way to stall since he had been caught. "When you were in prison." Kurt clarified when Blaine looked at him with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Music." Blaine replied quietly after a few seconds, setting the book aside as he sat up, gently pushing Satine away.

"Music?" Kurt repeated, grabbing his mug and hesitantly moving closer before sitting down on the other end of the couch. He didn't know how to explain it, but for some time, he had been thinking about how much of a mystery Blaine still was and all he wanted was to know more about him. He didn't understand it, but he felt something pushing him towards Blaine and he didn't know how to resist it. Or maybe he simply didn't want to.

"Yeah." Blaine said, staring ahead of himself. "I had my sketchbook and my pencils, but I've always searched for inspiration in music. It used to be a big part of my life and it's been… hard, living without it."

"That's what this song you sang was about, wasn't it?" Kurt asked, remembering how emotional Blaine sounded then, right after he moved in, when Kurt heard him sing for the first time. And the last, so far. "It was about music."

Blaine turned to look at him, arching his eyebrow. "Is speaking Italian one of your secret talents?"

"No." Kurt shook his head, biting his lip. "I… I vaguely recognized the song and looked up the lyrics." Seeing Blaine look at him questioningly, he sighed. "I was curious. You sounded very… passionate about it and I wanted to know what made you feel that way."

"There were moments when I thought I would go insane." Blaine admitted quietly and Kurt felt a sudden stab of guilt in his chest. "No, stop it." Blaine must have noticed something changing in his posture because he immediately shook his head. "You were doing your job. And it's not like I was an innocent angel." Seeing Kurt staring at him with wide eyes, Blaine chuckled quietly. "Don't look at me like that. Believe me; I was just as surprised as you when I came to that realization."

"But if it wasn't for me…"

"Kurt." Blaine interrupted and Kurt was starting to realize that the sound of his name rolling out of Blaine's tongue was becoming one of his favorite things and he had no idea what to do with this information. "The only person to blame for me being in prison and for how dull my life has been is Sebastian. And me, for getting into the criminal world in the first place. None of this is on you."

As they looked at each other, Kurt felt so many questions pop into his head, so many things he wanted to know. Why did Blaine start to commit art crimes, how did he meet Smythe, why did they start working together, if he ever wanted to stop… However, he knew now wasn't the time to ask. Before he had time to come up with something to say, his phone started ringing, so he put his mug aside, taking the phone out of his pocket. Seeing the caller ID, he quickly answered, feeling Blaine's gaze on him as he spoke to the person on the other end. After hanging up, he took a deep breath before turning to look back at Blaine.

"That was Santana." He said. "They arrested Creebs, very discreetly so the word wouldn't spread on the streets. He'll wait in the holding cell until morning when I can interrogate him."

"Excellent." Blaine replied with grin, the serious mood fading away. "Well, gorgeous; feel free to thank me whenever you want." He added, stretching lazily and leaning back against the couch, closing his eyes.

Smiling slightly, Kurt quickly made up his mind and moved on the couch, straddling Blaine and bending down to kiss him without any warning. Blaine's hands automatically rested on Kurt's hips as he gasped in surprise and Kurt didn't waste any time, slipping his tongue into his mouth, groaning when Blaine sat up straight, wrapping his arms around his waist. "How about now?" Kurt asked against his lips and Blaine smirked, moving one of his arms under Kurt's ass and suddenly standing up, bringing Kurt up with him, making him yelp in surprise.

"Now is perfect." Blaine murmured, slowly starting walking towards Kurt's bedroom as the agent wrapped his legs around him, tugging on his curls to tip his head backwards so he could crash their lips in a hungry kiss. Stumbling a bit and somehow managing to turn the lights off on his way, Blaine finally reached his destination, kicking the door to Kurt's room closed, leaving Satine alone in the dark living room, curled up on the armchair, happily asleep.

That was, until she was abruptly awoken by the deep groans, gasps and screams of pleasure filling the apartment shortly after.

* * *

Later that evening, when they were lying naked in a mess of tangled covers, something caught Kurt's eye as Blaine stretched lazily, another thing that had been intriguing him for quite a while. Rolling on his side, he moved closer to take a better look at a simple silver ring Blaine wore everyday on his left hand, wondering if it had any special meaning to him.

"You were wearing this ring when I arrested you." Kurt commented casually and Blaine opened his eyes to look at him with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm touched you remember such a minor detail about our first encounter, pretty boy."

"Well, it was one of the best days of my life, of course I remember everything about it." Kurt replied teasingly, making Blaine scoff. "And now, five years later, you're still wearing it. Must be really special."

"You're being awfully curious today, gorgeous." Blaine said with a smirk and Kurt only shrugged in response. "It was a gift, from someone I helped out when they had a rough time." He explained. "So I kept it and I wear it as a reminder."

"Reminder?" Kurt inquired when Blaine fell silent, not able to stop himself.

"To do the right thing." Blaine eventually said, staring at the ceiling and avoiding Kurt's gaze.

Biting his lip, Kurt hesitated for a few seconds before speaking. "Like calling 911 when Smythe shot that man?"

"For instance." Blaine nodded, absentmindedly playing with the ring. "And many other things."

Silence fell between them and Kurt was sure they were done talking about it, so he was quite surprised when, after a moment, Blaine spoke again. "You know, I never wanted anyone to get hurt." He said quietly and Kurt made himself comfortable on the bed, listening intently, sensing there was more to come. "That's why I got into art forgery; the only things that get hurt are people's wallets and their pride. Unfortunately, Sebastian and I weren't on the same page there."

"When you asked me why I worked with him, I told you it's a long story, but that's not really true. I just wasn't in the mood to talk about it then." Blaine said with a deep sigh. "The truth is, some of the jobs were easier to pull off by two people and having a partner was rather convenient. We met here, in New York, and he was good at heists and robberies. Having him taking care of some of the planning gave me more time to focus on the forgeries because that was solely my job; Sebastian could barely draw a stick figure." Blaine chuckled but with no humor behind it. "But then it turned out that "not hurting anyone" wasn't exactly his style."

"Why did you stay with him then?" Kurt asked quietly. "Why not leave and not worry about it?"

"It'll probably sound stupid, but…" Blaine cut off, then turned his head, looking at Kurt for the first time in a while. "I kind of hoped that if I was there to keep an eye on him, I'd be able to stop him from doing stupid things. But there was a moment, after our last job together, when I realized that it was too late for him, that no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't change. But before I had time to do anything about it, he sold me out and you know the rest of that story." Blaine finished bitterly with a grimace on his face.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Kurt said after a minute of silence, feeling bad for making Blaine share the memories that were clearly not the most pleasant ones.

"Actually, I think you deserved to know." Blaine replied with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes as it usually did, and Kurt definitely didn't like it. "So don't be."

"I appreciate it." Kurt said, realizing that no matter how hard he had tried to convince himself back then when he was investigating him, he had never truly known Blaine. Those little glimpses into his life that he had gotten to see lately, those bits of his past, made him see Blaine in a completely different light and long gone were the days when he thought he was just another criminal that deserved to pay for their crimes. It took him a while, but eventually he came to the realization that maybe being a criminal didn't always have to mean being a bad person, and the more he got to know Blaine, the more he believed it was true. The bad thing was, along with this realization came a wave of feelings, feelings that Kurt refused to even think about, too scared of what could happen if he focused on trying to figure them out.

Not wanting to dwell on it, he decided to occupy himself in another way, moving closer and rolling on top of Blaine, making him look up in surprise and smirk, this time genuinely. "Well, well, agent Hummel, looks like I've created a monster."

"Are you complaining?" Kurt asked, looking down at him with an arched eyebrow.

"God, no."

Bending down, Kurt paused when their faces were barely an inch apart and Blaine didn't hesitate even for a moment, lifting his head to close the gap between their lips. Humming into the kiss, Blaine slowly slid his hands down to cup Kurt's ass before wrapping one arm around him and swiftly turning them over, eliciting a small laugh from Kurt that quickly morphed into a groan when Blaine rolled his hips down, smiling teasingly into the kiss and moaning when Kurt tugged his curls in return. Pulling away, he was met with Kurt looking at him challengingly and he smirked before diving back to kiss him deeply.

It was going to be a very long night and he planned on savoring every single minute.

* * *

Later, in a completely dark room, after they collapsed on the mattress and Kurt mumbled something incoherently before immediately falling asleep, Blaine lied on his back, thinking about why exactly he felt comfortable with sharing some of the past with the agent. Coming up empty, he glanced at the man lying next to him, deeply asleep after having been thoroughly fucked, and couldn't help but think that he was one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen and suddenly, he found himself wanting to stay. Sitting up with a startle, he closed his eyes, trying to shake the feeling off, and before he could do something undoubtedly stupid, he got up from the bed, putting on his underwear and quickly leaving the room, stepping into his own bedroom, closing the door and leaning against it.

What was happening to him?

* * *

"Okay, Malcolm, let me make this clear." Kurt said, tiredly rubbing his temples, as he sat in the interrogation room, facing Malcolm Creebs who still refused to cooperate. "We will let you go. We will forget we ever heard of you if you tell me what I want to know." He knew it seemed crazy to catch a criminal and then let them go without any kind of punishment, but Smythe was their priority for the moment and Johnson gave them the green light, so there he was, offering freedom to a man who stubbornly refused to accept it.

"Mention me, tell him how Sebastian sold me out and that it can happen to him any time." Blaine's voice suddenly sounded in the earpiece Kurt was wearing and he had to try very hard not to smile. Blaine was watching the interrogation from behind the glass and his job was to study Creebs closely and try to figure out what would make him finally start talking.

"Do you remember Blaine Anderson, Malcolm?" Kurt asked and noticing how the man tensed, he continued without waiting for him to reply. "You do realize that Smythe sold him out because he was becoming inconvenient for him, right? He could do the same thing to you anytime, Malcolm. You probably mean nothing to him, so why are you insisting on being so loyal?"

In the room behind the glass, Blaine watched with a smile on his face as Malcolm finally broke, admitting that he was the one making the cards for Sebastian and writing down two different addresses he sometimes delivered them to. After Kurt finished the interrogation, promising him once again that Sebastian would never know about his involvement, he left Malcolm alone in the room, and seconds later, he walked in to the room Blaine was in.

"Those addresses he gave you are consistent with two places Clarington mentioned." Blaine said, looking up from the laptop where he was going through the list of spots where Hunter and Sebastian used to meet. "Those coffee shops are in the same neighborhood as those apartments Creebs told you about."

Nodding, Kurt didn't say anything, biting his lip and fiddling with his fingers nervously, staring blankly at some point on the wall above Malcolm's head in the interrogation room. "Hey." Blaine walked up to him slowly, Kurt's head snapped to his left and he looked at him with wide eyes. "This is solid. We'll find him." Blaine said quietly and Kurt took a deep breath before nodding again.

"You're right. We will."

They prepared for the raids very carefully, planning every detail and trying to predict every possible outcome. They decided to send two separate teams so they could go into both of the apartments at the same time, one led by Kurt and the other one by Mike. Blaine had to stay at the Bureau, no matter how much he wanted to be at the scene, he knew they couldn't risk Sebastian seeing him and discovering he was out of prison. So there he was, sitting in Kurt's office, impatiently waiting for the agents to come back, hoping they would find something, anything, if not for his, then for Kurt's sake. He didn't say anything, but lately Blaine could see in his eyes that he was slowly losing hope and he was afraid that another failure might completely break him down.

Before he could dwell on the fact that he was actually _worried_ about Kurt, the door to the lower part of the office opened and Blaine saw the agent walk into the room. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket or his tie, his shirt's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hair was disheveled, he must have left his gear at the armory and then come up here straight away, without stopping to make himself look like he usually did in the office.

"And?" Blaine asked immediately as soon as Kurt stepped into his office, a little out of breath from running up the stairs.

"We didn't find Smythe." Kurt said and raised his hand when Blaine opened his mouth, effectively stopping him. "But those were definitely his hide-outs. In both apartments we found some of the paintings and other stuff he had stolen in the past few months. We packed it all up and it's being transported to the evidence as we speak and the tech guys are tearing the apartments apart, if there's anything there that could point us to Smythe, they will find it."

"You didn't want to stay there in case they did find something?" Blaine asked and Kurt shook his head.

"I left Santana in charge and Mike has it handled in the second apartment. I figured you were going crazy in here, so I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer." He replied with a small smile before tiredly plopping down on the chair behind his desk.

"You okay?" Blaine asked, eyeing him carefully.

"Yeah. I actually am." Kurt replied truthfully. "Sure, there's a small part of me that is disappointed we didn't find Smythe there, but it's not like I expected him to just sit there, waiting for us. What matters is, that for the first time we actually found something directly connected to him and we're getting closer, I can feel it in my bones." He said with a determined look on his face. "And I probably wouldn't have gotten here without you, so… thank you."

Sitting down on the other chair, Blaine grinned. "Wow, that must've been hard to say." He said teasingly, chuckling at the amused glare Kurt sent his way. "Don't thank me yet, gorgeous. Wait until we find him, then you can thank me in _any _way you want." He added, waggling his eyebrows and Kurt couldn't help but laugh, smiling back at Blaine.

"I guess I can arrange that."

* * *

Later that day, in the evening, somewhere in New York, Sebastian Smythe was eyeing the man standing in front of him. "I have a job for you."

"What do you need?"

Handing him a photograph, Sebastian sat down, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "The twink in the photo is agent Kurt Hummel from the FBI. And he's been getting on my nerves recently." He said, his gaze darkening dangerously. "I need you to follow him around. Find out where he lives, where he goes to, what routes he uses and when he's alone. Don't approach him and, for fuck's sake, don't let him see you." Nodding, the man turned around and left the apartment, and when he heard the sound of a door being closed, Sebastian stood up, slowly walking up to the window and looking at the view of the city during the night.

He was done playing games.


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone! I know it's Sunday evening and tomorrow we all probably have to face the ugly Monday, go to school/uniniversity/work (8 am class in my case), so here's the new chapter to cheer you up a bit :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"So, I was thinking." Blaine started one day, while they were in Kurt's office, the agent sitting behind his desk and the forger walking around mindlessly, watching the pictures on the walls.

"Careful, don't strain yourself." Kurt replied not looking up from the paperwork he was filing, but smirking teasingly.

"Very funny." Blaine rolled his eyes. "Why don't we use me as a bait?"

"What?" Kurt looked up from the documents with a frown.

"We should use me as bait to find Sebastian." Blaine repeated.

"No, absolutely not." Kurt said, shaking his head vehemently. "We would have to reveal that you're out of jail and we would lose our advantage for nothing if it didn't work."

"It would definitely draw him out." Blaine argued back. "Kurt, you don't know him like I do."

"Maybe, but I know him well enough to know that you probably wouldn't get out of this alive." Kurt retorted, desperately trying to maintain a calm expression on his face because inside of him, there was a whirlwind of emotions that he couldn't afford to let out.

"We could spread the word that I got out on good behavior or something." Blaine said. "We don't even need him to confess to anything before making the arrest; he would only need to show up to the meeting with me."

"Blaine, you were a liability to him then and you probably would be one now, how can you know he won't put the bullet in you as soon as he sees you?" Kurt asked, looking at him intently, trying to get through to him.

"I don't think he would." Blaine replied. "He would be too intrigued to kill me right away."

"Still, it's too dangerous." Kurt said. "Blaine, I'm not risking your life to get him." He added when the forger opened his mouth to keep arguing. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Blaine eventually sighed.

"Fine." He said, giving up. "But the offer's still on the table, so promise me you'll consider it if we're out of options, okay?"

Not trusting his voice, all Kurt could do was nod. The moment Blaine left his office to get some coffee, he let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm his heart that had been beating wildly since the moment they started this conversation. He thought about the sudden feeling of dread spreading through his body when Blaine mentioned his idea and how he instantly knew that he wouldn't be able to risk his life just to get a chance at catching Smythe. With a thin smile on his face, he remembered the time when he wanted to find him almost at any cost, realizing that putting Blaine in danger had become a price that he was not willing to pay.

His internal debate was interrupted by the sudden knock on the door and when he looked up, he had to fight an urge to roll his eyes when he saw Adam standing behind the glass door. Forcing himself to smile amicably, he gestured at the British agent to come in, wishing Blaine hadn't chosen that particular moment to disappear.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" Adam asked, as he sat down, flashing Kurt a wide smile.

"Not at all." Kurt lied. "What can I do for you?"

"It's actually nothing work related." Adam said and Kurt instantly knew what it was about. "I was wondering, do you have any plans this weekend?"

Sighing internally, Kurt tried to think of a way to turn him down gently. For a spilt second he actually considered saying that he had no plans and go on one date with Adam, just for the sake of it, to get him to leave him alone, but he quickly dismissed that thought, knowing that nothing good would come out of it. He would much rather spend the weekend watching TV shows and eating take-out on his couch with Blaine, than be stuck with Adam for the entire evening, and to be honest, he was quite looking forward to the former. Lately, he had discovered that they had more in common than anyone would have thought and spending time with Blaine, other than having sex, had become an enjoyable part of Kurt's day. Not that he was saying sex wasn't enjoyable, not at all, Kurt was a big fan of that part as well.

Besides, it was hard to ignore the stab of guilt in his chest that appeared whenever he even thought about going out with Adam and the fact that it felt a bit like cheating, and it was yet another proof that Kurt might have let himself care about Blaine a little bit more than he would like to admit.

"I'm sorry, Adam, but I just… I'm not really looking for anyone to date right now." Kurt answered, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "And I don't think this is going to change in the nearest future." He added, hoping Adam would get the hint and stop asking him out every few weeks.

"You're a very stubborn man." Adam replied, shaking his head with amusement and Kurt grew even more annoyed since it seemed that Adam saw him as some kind of a challenge and wasn't going to let go any time soon. "One date, Kurt. Give me a chance."

"I'm really not interested right now." Kurt said, hoping the tone of his voice wasn't too cold, but he had a really hard time restraining himself. Suddenly, he caught a movement from the corner of his eye and when he discreetly looked above Adam's shoulder, he saw Blaine behind the glass whose eyes were narrowed as he glared at the British agent. However, instead of coming into the office like Kurt thought he would, he headed to the conference room and sat by the table, facing Kurt's office so he could watch them through the glass wall.

"Fine." Adam raised his hands in mock surrender, but the smile was still intact on his face. "There's actually one more thing I wanted to talk to you about." Seeing Kurt gesturing at him to continue, the expression on his face grew a bit more serious. "Blaine Anderson."

"What about him?" Kurt asked calmly, but on high alert, wondering what exactly Adam wanted to talk about.

"I just wanted to make sure that… you didn't fall for his charms." Adam said, carefully picking his words.

"If you knew him at all, you would know there's nothing charming about Anderson." Kurt retorted with an arched eyebrow.

"Come on, Kurt, you know what I mean." Adam said, looking at him meaningfully. "Last time we spoke, you said you trusted him which confounded me if I'm being honest. I'm not sure how you can even work with him."

"We both want the same thing." Kurt replied slowly. "We both want Smythe to end up in prison and that's how we managed to overlook our indifferences and focus on what's most important."

"You can't be serious, Kurt." Adam said, looking at him incredulously. "Okay, fine, I'm sure he hates Smythe, but he sure as hell hates you too. You were the one that put _him _behind bars!" He exclaimed. "If he wants revenge on Smythe, he wants revenge on you as well."

"What are you asking me here, Adam?" Kurt cut to the chase, wanting nothing more than to kick the British agent out of his office, as anger and irritation spread through his body,

"I'm just saying that he probably wants you to trust him just so he can play it to his advantage later." Adam said. "You're too smart for that, but I'm sure he tried to seduce you at least once. I know I would if I were living with such a hot guy as you." He added with a smirk, eyeing Kurt up and down. "Sleep with you, make you trust me and then use you without hesitating for even a second when you're the most vulnerable."

"I don't think I like what you're suggesting." Kurt replied coldly, glaring at Adam with narrowed eyes, ignoring the pang in his chest he felt as Adam kept talking.

"I'm not suggesting anything." Adam raised his hands defensively. "Like I said, you're too smart to fall for that. I'm just telling you to be careful because all of this, this is just a game for him."

"Thank you for your… concern, but I can handle myself." Kurt said through gritted teeth. "And like I mentioned before, Blaine and I came to an understanding, and I stand by what I said – I do trust him. I also believe he's our best shot at finding Smythe so if you have any issues with that, I suggest you talk to Johnson."

"Fine. Just don't say that I didn't warn you." Not waiting for Kurt to reply, Adam stood up and he walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him and leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried not to, his mind kept wandering back to what Adam said about Blaine. Was it really possible that he had been trying to get closer on purpose, just to use it against him in the end? No, he refused to believe that, Blaine wasn't like that…

"I would never do that to you." Blaine's voice sounded suddenly in the room and when Kurt's head snapped up, he saw the forger close the door with a serious expression on his face.

"What…" Kurt stared at him with wide eyes as Blaine walked up to his desk.

"I know how to read lips." Blaine shrugged. "Silly skill, but comes in handy sometimes. And I know what you're thinking right now." He said, sitting down and leaning closer to look at Kurt intently. "I'm not sleeping with you to make you vulnerable. I'm sleeping with you because we're having fun and you're super-hot, I have to agree with Crawford on that one." Blaine smirked briefly before his expression turned serious again. "I would never use what I learned about you to bring you down or to break you. I respect you too much and you know that I don't hate you. I would never do that to you." He repeated his earlier words, sincerity flashing in his eyes as he tried to make Kurt believe him.

"I know." Kurt said quietly. "I know that. It's just… he caught me off guard with what he said."

"He's an idiot." Blaine replied firmly. "He thinks he knows me, but you and I both know that he knows nothing. The other thing he was right about was that you're smart. You wouldn't let me use you even if I wanted to." He said, his voice softening before a smirk appeared on his face. "Besides, if I remember correctly, I didn't even have to seduce you, you kissed me first."

"Only because you pissed me off."

"So what, the only solution you could come up with was mouth-to-mouth combat?" Blaine asked teasingly, making Kurt snort and shake his head in amusement.

"Shut up." Kurt said, smiling for the first time since Adam's visit.

"Oh, you know the best way to shut me up." Blaine retorted, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, smirking slyly.

"Save that thought for later when we get home." Kurt said, lowering his voice and leaning closer, smirking when Blaine's eyes fell on his lips. He waited for a few more seconds before he stood up, gathering the documents on his desk, and he couldn't help but chuckle when Blaine stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Home, Anderson." He repeated as he walked past his desk in the direction of the door.

And well, if he swayed his hips a bit more than usually, that was pure coincidence.

* * *

On Friday evening, after a particularly exhausting day, Blaine was sitting on the couch in the living room, pencil in his hand and with a sketchbook perched up on his knee. Kurt went to bed early, almost as soon as they came back from work, drained after dealing with way too much paperwork and the countless problems the agents on his team were having, so Blaine was left to entertain himself alone. Lost in thought, he was sketching mindlessly, drawing a portrait of Satine, figuring he might give it to Kurt later if he was satisfied enough with it, but eventually his vision started blurring. Yawning, he stretched and decided it was time to call it a night when suddenly, there was a scream coming from Kurt's bedroom.

Tossing the sketchbook aside, he jumped to his feet and rushed to Kurt's room, following the sound of whimpers and quieter screams, and when he turned the bedside lamp on, he was met with the sight of the agent trashing in his bed, obviously being haunted by a nightmare. He knew that he probably wasn't supposed to wake him, but whatever Kurt was dreaming about was scaring the shit out of him and Blaine couldn't stand seeing him like that for much longer. Getting on the bed, he tried to grab Kurt's shoulders to shake him awake when suddenly the agent flung his arm at him. Thanks to years of boxing, Blaine ducked easily, acting on instinct, eventually getting hold of Kurt and pinning him down.

"Kurt. Kurt!" Blaine called out urgently, shaking him lightly until Kurt's eyes snapped open, incredibly blue and wide with panic as he started to struggle again. "Kurt, it's me!" Blaine tightened his grip on him to avoid accidentally being hit. Gradually, Kurt's movements stilled as he stared at Blaine, realization slowly dawning in his eyes and Blaine felt his body relax.

"Blaine." Kurt breathed out and seeing he was fully awake, Blaine released his grip on his shoulders, but when he was about to move away to make himself more comfortable, Kurt's hand gripped his arm. "No, wait."

"I'm not going anywhere." Blaine said quietly, his voice low and soothing as he lied on his side next to Kurt, tossing the blanket on top of them. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it was… just a nightmare." Kurt took a deep breath. "Just a nightmare." He repeated in a whisper as if he was trying to reassure himself that whatever he saw in his dream wasn't real.

"Want to talk about it?"

"I… not really." Kurt shook his head. "But can you… I know we don't… But…"

"Hey." Blaine interrupted Kurt's rambling and usually he would say something cutting or teasing about that, but now was not the time. "What is it?"

"Can you stay with me?" Kurt asked so quietly it was barely audible, looking anywhere but at Blaine, avoiding his gaze. In response, Blaine reached with his arm to wrap it around Kurt, pulling him closer and rolling onto his back, taking Kurt with him until he was lying on his side with his head pillowed on Blaine's chest. Feeling his body shiver, Blaine tightened his arms around him, burying his nose in Kurt's hair, holding him closely and wondering when exactly he started to care about the man in his arms so much. So much that in this moment he wished he could shield him from the pain and the fears haunting him, make him safe and put him back together, this beautiful and broken man, shattered into pieces, who had been through more shit than anyone ever should in their lives. But for now, all he could do was hold him, hoping it would bring him some peace.

In the meantime, while Blaine was lost in his thoughts, Kurt pressed himself close, gripping Blaine's t-shirt tightly, breathing in his scent and listening to his beating heart, the sound so comforting, slowly calming down his own wildly racing heart. He wouldn't tell Blaine, he couldn't, that his nightmare was about him, being captured and tortured by Smythe. That his former partner kept cutting him slowly with a knife, laughing loudly and inflicting multiple wounds that made Blaine bleed out slowly, in an excruciating pain while Kurt couldn't move, couldn't do anything to help him, feeling more helpless than he had ever had.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Kurt's breath stuttered and he couldn't stop a small whimper getting out of his mouth as he desperately tried to wipe the images from the nightmare from his memory. "Hey." Blaine murmured, instantly tightening his arms around him. "Whatever you saw… it's not real. It can't get you here, you're safe."

_If you only knew that it wasn't me who wasn't safe_, Kurt thought, but he nodded against Blaine's chest and took a few deep breaths. Eventually, his body started to relax and suddenly, he could feel one of Blaine's arms moving away, but before he had time to comprehend it, a click of his lamp being turned off sounded in the room and seconds later, Blaine wrapped his arm back around him as the room got engulfed by darkness.

And right before he fell asleep, Blaine's words sounded in his head again and truth to be told, right now, lying in his bed, wrapped in Blaine's arms? Kurt had never felt safer in his entire life.

* * *

When the morning came and sun started peeking through the blinds in the window, Kurt stirred, slowly blinking his eyes open, instantly becoming aware of a warmth of another body beside him. They must have shifted during the night because right now Kurt was lying on his side, facing the window, with Blaine's body pressed against his back, his arm loosely wrapped around his waist. Slowly, not wanting to wake him, Kurt rolled on his back and then on his other side until he was facing Blaine, not able to look away, mesmerized with how peaceful he looked, admiring his long eyelashes and barely resisting the temptation to run his fingers through his wild curls. Smiling softly, he tried to memorize every detail of his face, pretending for a minute that he wasn't the FBI agent and that Blaine wasn't a convicted criminal, that they were just two people sharing a bed every night and waking up in each other's arms every morning because as much as he had tried, Kurt now knew there was no sense in denying and running away from the truth.

And the truth was that somewhere along the way, he fell in love with Blaine Anderson.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, not wanting to be caught off guard in case Blaine woke up. However, when he opened his eyes, he was met with hazel eyes looking right at him. "Hey there." Blaine said, voice low and raspy with sleep as he tightened his arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him a little closer.

"Good morning." Kurt whispered, resting his hands against Blaine's chest, unable to break the eye contact between them, wanting nothing more than to lean in and press a kiss against Blaine's lips.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, running his hand up and down Kurt's back, sending shivers down his spine.

"I am now." Kurt replied with a small smile and Blaine smiled back, leaning closer and kissing him slowly, much to Kurt's surprise, but he wasn't complaining at all, kissing back and moaning softly when Blaine slipped his tongue into his mouth.

After a minute, Blaine pulled away and Kurt barely stopped himself from whining as he chased his lips. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Blaine asked quietly with a smile, raising his eyebrow when Kurt looked at him quizzically. "You have this look on your face like you have something on your mind."

Knowing he couldn't tell him the truth, Kurt forced his brain to work, trying to come up with the right excuse. "How did you know you were going to live with me?" He asked, going with the first thing that popped into his head, something that he was actually really curious about, he had wanted to ask Blaine about that for a while now.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, looking at him curiously.

"Back in prison, after you accepted the deal." Kurt clarified. "Right before I left, you said that you would see me the next day."

"I'm good at reading people." Blaine said and chuckled when he noticed the expression on Kurt's face. "And I'm guessing you're not too happy about that."

"No, it's just…" Kurt paused. "I've always considered myself being good at hiding my emotions and difficult for people to read. And yet…"

"Yet I seem not to have a problem with that?" Blaine finished for him. "Maybe they just didn't know _how _to read you, pretty boy?" He said, smiling softly, not his usual smirk but a small, genuine smile. "But back to your question. I had a hunch and then you went all tense when I asked you about it, so that was enough for me to know."

Accepting the explanation, Kurt nodded and they lied still for a few minutes until Blaine tossed the covers away. "Okay, that's enough of that." Blaine said, sitting up. "Come on, I'll make you breakfast."

"No way." Kurt gasped in shock, grateful for the change of subject. "You're finally going to _cook _something? Of your own free will?"

"What, I have a generous heart, don't be so surprised." Blaine replied, clutching his heart in a mock offense as he got up and headed towards the kitchen. "Besides, I love messing around in the kitchen. All kinds of messing around_._" He added, glancing over his shoulder and waggling his eyebrows.

Following him, Kurt looked at Blaine with narrowed eyes for a few seconds. "I'm not having sex with you in the kitchen." He eventually said, sitting behind the counter.

"No, why?" Blaine whined, turning around and pouting, and god dammit, he was adorable. A word Kurt used to think was impossible to use in relation to Blaine. "It would be so much fun! I could bend you over the counter or fuck you against the cabinets…"

"Because that's where I prepare my food!" Kurt exclaimed. "I'm not going to spend my free time trying to disinfect everything in here."

"But it would be worth it!" Blaine tried again, but seeing the expression on Kurt's face, he gave up with a deep sigh. "Fine. What about the shower? I'd be lying if I said I never imagined you on your knees…"

The moment Blaine mentioned the shower, the blush rose on Kurt's cheeks and he pressed his lips in a thin line, looking away, hoping Blaine wouldn't notice. Which of course he did.

"What is it?" The forger immediately asked, the smirk already appearing on his face.

"Nothing."

"Come on, babe, you're blushing like a fifteen-year-old virgin trying to say "cock"". Blaine walked closer, grinning widely. "Which is weird because I happen to know first-hand that you're anything but a blushing virgin, so this kind of reaction at the mere mention of shower sex…" Blaine trailed off, studying Kurt closely, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Figuring Blaine wouldn't let him off the hook, Kurt sighed, knowing he had been trapped. "I might have heard you." He mumbled, staring at one point on the wall and Blaine looked at him curiously for a few seconds before his eyes widened in recognition when he realized what Kurt meant. "One morning when you were in the shower… I heard you." Kurt continued, unaware of Blaine already having it all figured out.

Smirking wolfishly, Blaine walked around the counter to lean against it right next to Kurt. "Didn't know you had it in you, gorgeous." He drawled. "When was it? It must have been a while ago, I haven't had to… take the matter into my own hands since you finally came around." He chuckled at his own joke, leaning closer when Kurt still refused to meet his gaze. "Wait…" Blaine's grew even wider as he strained his memory, realization dawning on him. "It was even before we slept together for the first time." Kurt not moving an inch was proof good enough that he was on the right track. "It was in the morning on the day you finally caved in, wasn't it?"

When Kurt still didn't say anything, Blaine slowly wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him closer, pressing Kurt's side against his chest. "Come on, pretty boy, it's fine." He murmured and eventually, he felt Kurt's body relax against him. "You know, I still remember exactly what I was thinking about in that shower…" He whispered in Kurt's ear before moving his lips lower, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. Feeling Kurt shiver slightly, Blaine smiled against his skin, turning the bar stool Kurt was sitting on so they were facing each other and he stepped between his legs, tightening his arm around Kurt's waist. Sucking on his neck, just below where the collar of Kurt's shirt would end, he placed his hand on Kurt's thigh, sliding it slowly up and down before resting it on his hip, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Kurt's pajama pants, running them against his skin.

"If you remember it so well…" Kurt suddenly spoke, his voice low and breathless. "… how about you show me?" He ended, his last word morphing into a soft groan when Blaine finished the hickey he was working on with a teasing bite, squeezing his hip playfully.

"With pleasure, gorgeous, with pleasure." Blaine said with a grin, stepping away and pulling Kurt off the stool. "But what about breakfast?"

"Screw breakfast." Kurt replied, pushing Blaine in the direction of the bathroom, eliciting a loud laughter from him.

"Oh, that's not what will be getting screwed in the near future."

After turning the water on, Kurt quickly undressed himself, pulling the t-shirt over his head and swiftly sliding down his pajama pants. He could see Blaine do exactly the same thing and the moment they were both naked, he grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into the shower with a grin, immediately wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him hard when they stepped under the spray of water. Moaning when Blaine sucked on his bottom lip, Kurt slid his hands down to rest them on his chest and pushed him until Blaine's back hit the cool, tiled wall and they weren't directly under the pouring water.

"I think you mentioned something about me on my knees…" Kurt muttered against his lips, finishing the kiss with a teasing nip, before slowly sliding down and kneeling in front of Blaine, looking up at him with a smirk. Without any warning, he sank his mouth over his half-hard cock, sucking at the tip, making Blaine gasp in surprise and roll his hips forward. Not breaking eye contact, Kurt took him in deeper, running his tongue along his length, breathing through his nose and pulling away slightly when Blaine's hips stuttered again.

"Fuck." Blaine gasped, the sight of Kurt on his knees, looking up at him with those wide, blue eyes, with his lips wrapped around his cock, making him go crazy. "You're gonna be the death of me."

Wrapping his hand around the base of Blaine's cock, Kurt went back to sucking on the tip, matching it with the strokes of his hand, and it took almost no time at all until Blaine was fully hard, heavy in his mouth as Blaine groaned deeply, throwing his head back against the wall. Resting his hands on Blaine's hips, Kurt started moving a bit faster, relaxing his throat and sinking his mouth deeper with every bop of his head. Patting his hips, Kurt urged Blaine to move and the forger took the hint, burying his fingers in Kurt's hair, and started thrusting forward, lightly, not wanting to choke him.

"Wait." Blaine panted, moaning after Kurt did something _magical _with his tongue, using all of his strong will to still his hips. "I don't want to come yet."

"But I wanted breakfast." Kurt replied with a pout after releasing his cock from his mouth, and how he managed to look so adorable and so damn hot at the same time was beyond Blaine.

"And I promised you screwing, pretty boy." Blaine retorted with a smirk, pulling him up and kissing him, slowly turning them around and pressing Kurt against the wall. "Turn around." He muttered against his lips.

When Kurt obliged, Blaine attached his lips to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses on his skin, making his way down to his shoulder, his hand blindly reaching the small shelf. "Since when there's lube in the shower?" Kurt asked when he saw the small bottle in Blaine's hand.

"I didn't want to be caught off guard in case we ended up in this situation." Blaine purred before suddenly groaning in frustration. "Fuck, we still need the condoms and those are in the bedrooms…"

"Maybe we could… without?" Kurt suddenly said after a few seconds of silence, turning his head to catch Blaine's gaze.

"You sure?" Blaine asked, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide with surprise.

"Well, I know I'm clean… You?"

"We were tested not long before I left prison. I was clean and I've only been with you since that." Blaine replied, still not looking entirely convinced, so Kurt twisted his neck to press a kiss against his lips.

"I trust you." Kurt whispered, looking intently into his eyes, and eventually Blaine nodded, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Okay."

Pouring lube on his fingers, Blaine kissed Kurt's shoulder before rubbing his finger against Kurt's hole and slowly pushing it in, pressing more kisses against Kurt's skin when he gasped at the intrusion. Slowly, Blaine fingered Kurt open, gradually adding the second and then the third finger until Kurt was whining and writhing under his touch, panting and moving his hips, trying to fuck himself on Blaine's fingers and urging him to go faster.

"Come on, Blaine." Kurt gritted out, hissing when Blaine pulled his fingers out and wincing at the emptiness.

Coating himself in lube, Blaine stepped behind Kurt, positioning himself against his hole. Slowly, he started pushing in, past the tight ring of muscle, breathing deeply, overwhelmed by how hot and tight Kurt felt around his cock. Bottoming out, he stilled for a minute, giving Kurt time to get used to the stretch, before pulling out a bit and thrusting back in, building a slow rhythm. With his hands flat on the wall, Kurt moved his hips back, trying to meet Blaine's thrusts as he gradually picked up a pace, moaning loudly when Blaine shifted, changing the angle a bit and hitting his prostate, fucking him faster and rougher.

Thrusting in and out, Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's waist, entwining his second hand with Kurt's on the wall, as he fucked him hard, groaning when he glanced down at his cock, sliding in and out of Kurt's ass, biting down on his shoulder, as he started moving even faster, the shower cabin filling with the sounds of their ragged breathing and skin slapping against skin. Burying his face in the crook of Kurt's neck, Blaine panted against his skin, occasionally pressing open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach, enjoying the high-pitched whines Kurt was letting out with every hard thrust. Releasing his grip on Kurt's waist, Blaine slid his hand down to wrap it around Kurt's cock, matching the strokes with the thrusts of his hips.

"You love it like that, don't you?" Blaine rasped into his ear, not slowing down. "You love it rough and fast."

That seemed to be what pushed Kurt over the edge, it took only a couple more thrusts and strokes until he came with a loud scream, cum spurting from his cock and covering the wall. Fucking him through his orgasm, Blaine slowed down, groaning when Kurt clenched around his cock. Still hard, he grinded against Kurt, biting down his lip and thrusting shallowly until Kurt squeezed his hand.

"Keep… keep going." Kurt panted, rolling his hips back and Blaine didn't have to be told twice. Moving his hands to rest them on Kurt's hips, he gripped him tightly and began pounding into him, desperate for his own release, fucking him even harder than before, panting harshly.

Leaning against the wall, Kurt moaned softly with every slam of Blaine's hips, already a bit oversensitive, but he didn't care, he didn't want Blaine to stop, letting him do basically whatever he wanted to him. It had been rare enough for him to bottom, but even if he had, he had never let any of his previous lovers fuck him like that after he already came, take him so roughly and have him at their mercy. However, Blaine seemed to be an exception to his every rule.

Feeling himself getting closer, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist again, pulling him closer and moving his hips feverishly, moaning loudly against his skin when he finally came, his cum filling Kurt up as he kept thrusting, riding on a high, seeing white for a few seconds and breathing heavily. Eventually, he slowed down, his hips stilling and they stood like that for a few seconds before Blaine pulled out, a rush of possessiveness going through his body as he watched his cum dripping out of Kurt's ass.

"I'm not going to be able to walk today or tomorrow." Kurt mumbled as Blaine pulled them under the water spray, chuckling when Kurt sagged against him.

"Good thing it's only Saturday." Blaine said, keeping one arm wrapped around Kurt to stabilize him and make sure he didn't accidentally slip.

"I hate you." Kurt muttered against his shoulder.

"No, you don't." Blaine retorted with a grin. "You love me, pretty boy."

Pulling away, Kurt swatted his shoulder playfully and teasingly rolled his eyes, eliciting laughter from Blaine. Only internally, for no one else to know, he admitted that it was true.

He really did love him.

* * *

"Okay, so the FBI building is here, as you well know." The man said, pointing at one spot on the map. "And here's where Hummel lives." He moved his finger on the map. "Now what's interesting is that it looks like he lives with his boyfriend…"

"I don't care about the boyfriend." Sebastian Smythe rolled his eyes, waving dismissively.

"But I really think you should hear this…" The man started, cutting off when Sebastian glared at him.

"I said I don't care." He growled. "I don't have time for, I don't know, kidnapping the boyfriend and then blackmailing Hummel to drop the investigation. I'd rather get rid of Hummel and be done with it."

"Okay." The man conceded with a shrug. "Anyway, it seems like he and the boyfriend work together, they leave together every morning and drive to work. But almost every day, Hummel goes to a little coffee shop to get lunch, not far from the FBI building. And he's always alone." He said, circling the place where the shop was on the map with a red marker.

"He walks there?"

"Yeah. And here's what you're going to love. He always uses this alley as a shortcut." The man said, marking it on the map. "It's dark and narrow, perfectly hidden from sight and other passersby."

Hearing that, Sebastian chuckled and smirked dangerously, and the man was suddenly glad he wasn't the one Smythe wanted to get rid of. "Here's your money." Sebastian said, handing him an envelope and after checking the amount, the man left, leaving Sebastian alone, staring at the map.

"See you soon, agent Hummel."


	13. Chapter 12

**Hey there! Sorry for the wait - I was trapped in studying for my finals and it sucked, but it's all done now! No need to ramble more - enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"Hey there." Kurt said, walking into the conference room where Blaine was sitting, sketching mindlessly. "I'm going to get lunch, you want anything?"

Putting the pencil away and turning a page in his sketchbook to cover the drawing, Blaine eyed Kurt's body up and down and smirked before meeting his eyes. "Since I'm guessing having you for lunch is not an option…" He paused as Kurt rolled his eyes fondly. "I'd love that chicken sandwich you got me last week." He said, rocking on his chair as he put his feet on the table.

"Copy that." Kurt nodded, turning around to leave the room, but he paused and looked back at Blaine. "You can have me for dinner though." He added with a wink, grinning when Blaine barely saved himself from falling off the chair, gripping the edge of the table tightly to steady himself, clearly not expecting that kind of answer. Laughing, Kurt finally left the room, leaving Blaine with a smirk playing on his lips as he shook his head in amusement, already thinking about what exactly he would do to Kurt after they got back home. Stretching, Blaine tried to push the images of _dinner_ out of his mind, at least for now, knowing he still had to get through an entire afternoon of being stuck at the office and he would much rather do it without a boner.

Yawning, Blaine twirled the pencil absentmindedly between his fingers. He would much rather go out as well and join Kurt for lunch, but he knew that him being out in the open had to be reduced to a minimum, they couldn't risk anyone seeing him outside of prison, even completely by accident. Any slip up like that could cause Sebastian to find out he had been released from prison and it probably wouldn't take long for him to figure out that he was working for the FBI and all of their hard work and effort would go to waste in a matter of seconds. So as much as he hated being indoors all the time, Blaine was willing to suck it up and wait, especially since it felt like they were really getting closer to finally finding and putting the son of a bitch away once and for all.

Sighing, Blaine grabbed the sketchbook from the table and after making sure no one was going to come in, he turned the page and looked at the barely started sketch of Kurt he had been working on before the agent interrupted him. Running his fingers along Kurt's jawline on paper, Blaine couldn't help but let his mind wander, thinking about how different everything had been between them lately. They still bickered almost all the time, arguing about every little thing and they still had sex, but the difference was, more often than not, they found themselves sharing the bed afterwards as well. It started after that night when Kurt had that mysterious nightmare he refused to talk about, one night after sex Blaine just… did not want to leave. So he didn't. And the next time the same thing happened with Kurt – after riding Blaine into oblivion, he curled up next to him with no intention of leaving and Blaine didn't question it at all, only wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist in response.

As Blaine pressed the pencil against the paper, his mind went to those little moments, like him automatically making two mugs of coffee instead of one or Kurt making sure there weren't any olives on the pizza while ordering because he knew Blaine despised them. When he and Kurt fell asleep on the couch while watching something on the TV, tangled up together so they wouldn't fall down on the floor. Or how after a very long day at the Bureau they stumbled into the apartment and without any words spoken, they simply headed to Kurt's bedroom, taking off their clothes on the way before they plopped down on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly, just sharing a bed without even having sex beforehand. They did have sex later in the morning, but that was beside the point, whatever it was between them, it wasn't just about sex anymore. It was something else, something more and Blaine had no idea what to think about that.

On the other hand, maybe he knew exactly what it was; he was just too scared to admit it to himself.

* * *

Exiting the FBI building, Kurt took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs. It was exhausting, spending so much time in the office, so Kurt always happily welcomed any opportunity to get outside for some fresh air and to clear his head. It wasn't even that cold, it was unusually warm for this time of year, so Kurt really looked forward to his short walk to the coffee shop, hoping to stretch his muscles at least a little. Putting his hands in the pockets of his coat, Kurt headed in the direction of the coffee shop, walking with a spring in his step. He couldn't help it, he had been in a good mood for a while, he finally felt like they were getting somewhere with the Smythe case and he knew they were close, closer than ever. He could feel it in his bones.

Despite his best efforts not to think about work for a while, Kurt wasn't able to turn his brain off, and he eventually gave up, letting the details of the case fill his mind up again. Lost in his thoughts, he entered the narrow alley he always used as a shortcut to get to the coffee shop, but he couldn't help but notice that there was something… off. There was this weird feeling spreading over his body, as if there was someone watching him, but Kurt tried to shake it off, laughing internally at how paranoid he was being. Suddenly, there was a noise behind him, but before he had time to react and turn around, something hard hit his head from the back and the sharp pain erupted in his skull. Groaning, Kurt fell down on his knees, the blow not knocking him unconscious, but making his vision blurry and making the world spin around him as he lost his balance. Trying to focus, he blindly reached for his gun and he almost had it in his hand when the pain in the back of his head intensified as the second blow fell down on him.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Humming under his breath, Blaine was sketching until a loud grumbling in his stomach suddenly brought him out his trance. Glancing at the clock on the wall of the conference room, Blaine frowned. He had lost track of time and he didn't realize that it had been well over an hour since Kurt left and he should definitely be back already. Setting the pencil aside, he closed his sketchbook and he headed out of the room, going downstairs and walking up to Mike's desk.

"Hey." He said, making Mike look up from the documents he was reading. "Have you seen Kurt?"

"Didn't he go out to get lunch?" Mike replied with a questioning expression on his face.

"Yeah. Over _an hour_ ago." Blaine stressed and Mike's brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could comment on it, Santana stepped into the office after getting out of the elevator and judging by the look on her face, it was obvious something was definitely wrong. Deadly pale, with a big envelope in her hands, she crossed the room in a few quick strides, raising her hand when Mike opened his mouth to start speaking.

"Conference room." She said quietly. "Both of you." She added, looking at Blaine meaningfully, and without saying anything else, she headed upstairs, the two men following right behind her.

Stepping into the room, Mike shut the door behind them, Santana stood next to the table, and Blaine didn't miss the way her hands were slightly shaking. Judging by the expression on Mike's face, he noticed it too.

"Santana." Mike eventually said. "What's wrong?"

"A man walked into the Bureau about fifteen minutes ago." Santana started slowly. "He said he was told to deliver a package. The guys downstairs examined it and when they discovered what was inside, they called me immediately." She paused, staring at the envelope and the silence in the room was almost deafening.

"Come on, Lopez." Blaine said impatiently, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach.

Her breath stuttering, Santana opened the envelope and turned it upside down, tossing its contents out on the table: a gun, a phone and a thin wallet. Walking up closer to take a better look, Blaine's heart dropped because he _knew _this phone, he had teased its owner about the phone case countless of times. Reaching for the wallet, he miraculously somehow managed to hide the tremor in his hands because he knew exactly what he would find inside. Taking a deep breath, he opened it, revealing Kurt's FBI ID card and his badge, and Blaine heard Mike gasp beside him when the agent leaned in to take a closer look.

Because inside, tucked under the badge to keep it in place, there was a white business card with the double _**S **_in the middle. The exact same one Sebastian Smythe always left on all of his crime scenes.

"Fuck." Blaine growled, staring at the business card for a few seconds before throwing the wallet angrily back on the table and leaning against it with his hands clenched in fists. After taking a deep breath, he turned back to Santana. "That guy that brought the package, where is he?"

"Downstairs with the guards." Santana replied. "He claims a man gave him five hundred bucks and told him to just walk into the building and say he had a package to deliver."

"Smythe?" Mike asked, glancing questioningly at Blaine.

"Or someone he hired to grab Kurt." Blaine shrugged, the thoughts in his head racing a mile a minute. "You have the sketch of Sebastian I drew, show it to him and we'll see what he says."

"I'll bring him up here." Santana said and rushed out of the room, almost running in the direction of the elevators.

"Okay." Mike shook his head, massaging his temples and trying to focus, but Blaine could see the worry etched in the features of his face as he desperately tried to pull himself together. "Okay." Mike repeated, sitting by the table and grabbing the laptop lying nearby. "In the meantime, I'll try to locate Kurt."

"How?" Blaine frowned. "His phone is right there."

"A while ago there was a case, two agents got kidnapped and killed. We weren't able to track them because their phones were turned off." Mike started as he typed on the keyboard. "Ever since then, every agent has to wear a tracker somewhere in their clothing, every day, no matter what they're doing. Somewhere that no one would think to look for, some agents have it in their shoes or their watches." Glancing at Blaine and seeing the surprised expression on his face, Mike smiled weakly. "Kurt has it in his belt."

The sound of the door opening up made them both turn their heads and they saw agent Johnson walk into the room. "I just found out. What do we have?" He asked without wasting any time.

"Sir, agent Lopez is bringing the man that delivered the package up here to show him the sketch of Smythe to establish if he was the one that attacked agent Hummel." Mike replied, straightening his back. "I'm trying to locate him using the personal FBI tracker."

In that moment, Santana appeared along with a man who looked so scared that it seemed he was going to pass out any second. "Tell them what you told me." She ordered, glaring at him with narrowed eyes, making the man jump.

"I… I was just heading home, minding my own business when this man walked up to me." He stuttered out. "He asked me if I wanted to get some easy cash and he said I only had to deliver t-this package…"

"Where did this happen?" Johnson asked.

"It happened on the route that Kurt takes when he goes to get lunch, sir." Santana replied and the man nodded. "And there's a small alley that he uses as a shortcut that's perfect for…" Santana stopped, swallowing roughly. "I sent a team there, maybe they'll find something."

Opening the file and grabbing the sketch, Blaine walked up to the man. "The man that paid you. What did he look like?"

"I… I don't know? Tall, with a long face… He kind of looked like a meerkat…" He trailed off, looking unsure and Blaine felt the anger rise in him.

"Is that him?" Blaine growled, basically shoving the sketch in the man's face, after a second his eyes widened and he started nodding vigorously. "Great." Blaine muttered. "Sebastian must be pretty pissed if he decided to take the matter into his own hands."

"Can I go now?" The man asked, looking pleadingly at them and after sharing a look with Johnson, Santana sighed and nodded, gesturing at the door.

"Go. Ask one of the agents to take you downstairs."

When the man left, Santana opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by her phone ringing. Picking up, she listened to the agent on the other end, well aware of everyone's eyes trained on her and watching her in anticipation.

"Okay, thanks." Santana eventually hung up and took a deep breath before looking at the other people in the room. "They searched the area where Kurt might have been grabbed and they found nothing except for a brick covered with blood in the dumpster in the alley. They took the sample and are going to test it, but… but I'm pretty sure it's going to be a match with Kurt's." She finished with a pained expression on her face.

"Found him!" Mike suddenly exclaimed, making everyone look at him with wide eyes. "According to his tracker, he's in one of the warehouses on the docks."

"Sebastian always had a weird fascination with the docks." Blaine muttered with a bitter smile on his face, remembering all too well his arrest five years ago. Shaking himself out of the memories, he tuned back in, focusing on the conversation happening in the room.

"We could send two teams and go in from two different sides." Johnson was leaning over the table, pointing on the map spread on top of it. "Surround him and catch him off guard."

"Maybe negotiating would be a better idea?" Santana suggested. "Offering him something in exchange for Kurt?"

"I'm not sure if that would work." Mike said thoughtfully. "What if we…"

"You're going to get him killed." Blaine quietly interrupted from where he was leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed on his chest and a pensive look on his face, making everyone's head snap in his direction.

"Mr. Anderson." Johnson finally spoke up, after a few moments of heavy silence. "Care to elaborate?"

Pushing himself off the wall, Blaine walked up to where the agents were standing. "Assuming Kurt is still alive…" Blaine started, ignoring the pang in his chest and the look on Santana's and Mike's faces. "The moment Sebastian even has a feeling you are nearby, he is going to kill him without any second thoughts and flee the scene to avoid getting caught. There won't be time to get Kurt out or to negotiate with Sebastian; he will shoot him right away when he hears the tiniest sound out of place."

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!" Santana exclaimed angrily, her voice high while her eyes started to fill with tears. "If we don't do anything, Smythe is going to kill him anyway."

Not replying, Blaine stared at Kurt's things on the table, knowing that there was only one possible solution and even if that wouldn't guarantee getting Kurt out of that warehouse safely. "I have a feeling Mr. Anderson has some kind of idea." Johnson suddenly said, making Blaine's head snap up and after a second, he nodded.

"Let me go in." He said, watching Santana and Mike look at him with wide eyes while Johnson's expression remained stoic. "No matter if he knows that I'm working with you or not, he won't pass up on an opportunity to talk to me. To brag." Blaine huffed with a disdainful expression on his face. "I will be able to buy Kurt some time, maybe I'll manage to get him out somehow. You can wait nearby, rush in when he's safe."

"What about your safety?" Mike asked and Blaine was aware that he must have noticed that Blaine didn't mention even once getting _himself _out of that warehouse alive.

"I'll be fine." He replied curtly.

"Are you really willing to risk your life for a federal agent?" Santana asked, looking at him unbelievingly.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine looked at her to meet her eyes. "Yeah, I am." He said quietly, letting sincerity flash in his eyes, not caring that he was letting his walls down for a second. The only thing that mattered right now was saving Kurt's life, nothing else. "Now, are you in? Because we're running out of time."

Nodding, Johnson sighed. "Let's do this. Lopez, with agent Hummel absent you are in charge. Keep me updated." Turning around to leave, he started walking away, but stopped in the doorway, glancing at the rest of the group over his shoulder. "Do your best to bring him back." He added softly before exiting the conference room.

"Okay, we need a plan." Santana said decisively, wiping her eyes and clearing her throat, walking up to the table where Blaine was studying the map of the docks where the warehouse was.

"I might have an idea."

* * *

The first thing that crossed Kurt's mind as he slowly started to regain his consciousness was that it was cold. Feeling like he was floating, still underneath the surface, he forced himself to open his eyes and groaned at the light from the lamp above him hitting him and slightly blinding him. Blinking, he slowly got used to it, realizing he probably was in some kind of a warehouse, judging by the look of the ceiling above him. Shivering, he noticed that he wasn't wearing his coat and he briefly wondered where the hell it was, but he was distracted by the wave of nausea coming over him. Breathing in and out, he tried to ignore the pounding in his head and after a second, he realized he could also feel the dull and throbbing pain in the back of his skull. Reaching behind, he felt dried blood as he gently touched the wound, trying to estimate how serious it was, but it seemed it wasn't that bad, just a medium cut and a bump. Rolling on his side, he slowly started to sit up, closing his eyes when the world spun around him a bit, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to regain the full control of his body. Feeling steady enough, he was about to stand up when a sudden voice sounded right in front of him.

"That's enough movement." Kurt's head snapped up in the direction of the sound and he winced at the sudden move, but narrowed eyes and a glare quickly replaced the grimace on his face when he realized who was standing in front of him. "Welcome back, sleeping beauty." Sebastian Smythe sneered and Kurt's eyes fell on the gun the man was holding and it took him only two seconds to realize that his situation was quite bad.

"Sebastian Smythe." Kurt huffed, shaking his head. "You didn't think your list of offences was long enough? You had to add kidnapping a federal agent as well?"

"So quick witted." Smythe commented with a smirk. "You don't scare easily, do you, pretty boy?" He asked and Kurt flinched internally. He grew quite fond of Blaine calling him that, with something warm and teasing in his eyes every time he said it, but in Smythe's mouth, it sounded more like a disdainful sneer and for a second Kurt felt as if he was back in high school.

"You're probably curious how I found you." Smythe continued and Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes. Blaine was right; modesty certainly wasn't Smythe's strong suit.

"I'm dying to know."

"I've had someone tail you for the last few weeks. Follow you around every day." Sebastian said with delight evident in his voice and Kurt's blood turned cold. If someone had really been watching him that meant they also saw Blaine and if Smythe knew about that… "Relax, Hummel, your boyfriend is safe." Sebastian commented probably noticing the worry in Kurt's eyes and the fear in him was momentarily replaced by utter confusion.

"My boyfriend?" Kurt repeated with a frown, eliciting a loud laugh from Smythe.

"No need to pretend, pretty boy. My minion reported to me you live with him, but like I said, I'm not really interested in him right now."

The moment Smythe mentioned living together, the realization dawned on Kurt. The man following him must have not known who Blaine was and he simply reported to Smythe that Kurt was living with someone and they assumed he was his boyfriend. _Good_, Kurt thought as he discreetly released a breath of relief, that meant Smythe still probably had no idea Blaine wasn't in prison anymore which meant that maybe Kurt would manage to keep him safe.

"What the hell do you want?" Kurt gritted out, glaring at Smythe.

"Oh, it's quite simple." Smythe shrugged. "I want you to drop the investigation."

"Did you honestly think I would drop it just because you threatened me?" Kurt looked at him incredulously. "You know nothing about me then."

"No, I didn't think you would." Smythe simply said. "That's why you're not walking out of here alive."

Saying that, Smythe grinned, the smile on his face maniacal as his eyes remained cold. Slowly he raised his gun, pointing it at Kurt and Kurt stared right back at him, refusing to show any sign of weakness even though he was inevitably going to die in the next few seconds.

"Goodbye, agent Hummel."

* * *

The drive to the docks had been silent, no one was in the mood to talk, they all battled against their thoughts, trying not to let any negative feelings get in the way. Blaine fiddled with the ring on his finger, breathing in deeply and mentally preparing himself for facing Sebastian and trying to get himself in the right mindset, to be the Blaine Anderson Sebastian remembered and thought he knew.

The truth was, Sebastian had never known him at all.

Mike and Santana were quiet as well and Blaine could see the tension in their shoulders and the worry in their eyes. Everyone was nervous, Blaine saw that when they were all getting in the cars, but it was different for those two, it wasn't just their boss, it was their best friend's life on the line and they had no other choice than to trust Blaine with it. What they didn't know was that Blaine would rather put himself in harm's way than let anything happen to Kurt and the reason of that was also a reason of many sleepless nights Blaine had spent staring at the ceiling, holding Kurt close and trying to figure out what was happening in his heart.

The car suddenly stopping broke Blaine out his thoughts. Glancing out the window, he confirmed they indeed had reached the docks and he could see the rest of the cars pull up as well and the other agents slowly started getting out of the vehicles. From the passenger seat, Santana turned back to face him and handed him a pen.

"It's a bug." She explained. "Put it in your pocket and we will hear everything."

"We'll be outside the whole time." Mike added, turning in his seat as well. "We'll go in when you give us the all clear or if we… Or if something bad happens." He hesitated and the calm expression on his face faltered a little and Blaine had to turn his gaze away, not wanting to see the fear in his eyes. Knowing there was no time to waste, Blaine moved to get out of the car and his hand was already on the door handle when Santana's voice stopped him.

"Blaine." She had never called him by his first name before, so Blaine looked up with surprise only to see her looking at him with the most open expression on her face he had ever seen. "Good luck."

Nodding, Blaine exited the car and with one last look at all the agents, he headed in the direction of the warehouse Sebastian and Kurt were supposedly in. It was a bit of a distance to get through, they didn't drive any closer on purpose, not wanting Sebastian to hear or suspect anything. As Blaine got closer to the warehouse, he forced himself to calm down and pushed the emotions away knowing that the moment he faced Sebastian, any wrong move, any sign of weakness or hesitation would not put just his life in danger, but most importantly, Kurt's.

When he reached the warehouse, he took a last deep breath and released it slowly when he noticed that door was slightly ajar. Slipping inside without making a sound, he stopped, careful to stay in the shadows, and looked around the warehouse, immediately spotting what he was looking for. There they were, in the middle of the warehouse, Kurt on the ground and Sebastian standing a few feet away from him with a smug expression on his face and a gun in his hand. Silently, Blaine moved closer, circling the crates to get in a better position and wait for the right moment to reveal himself.

"Did you honestly think I would drop it just because you threatened me? You know nothing about me then." Blaine heard Kurt growl and when he glanced at him from behind the big box, he couldn't help but smile when he saw the furious expression on Kurt's face. He might have been kidnapped and at Sebastian's mercy, but no one pushed the Hummels around, Blaine remembered Kurt saying that it was something his dad had told him many years ago.

"No, I didn't think you would. That's why you're not walking out of here alive." Sebastian said and the smile quickly disappeared from Blaine's face as he realized that things were going south pretty quickly and that he would have to intervene soon or Kurt would die. Seeing Sebastian raise his gun made Blaine's heart drop and he knew that that was it. There was no more time left.

"Goodbye, agent Hummel."

Squaring his shoulders, Blaine focused, knowing that he was about to perform the most important con of his life. _Showtime_, he thought before he moved forward with no hesitation, confidently stepping into the light.

* * *

"You're never going to get away with this." Kurt growled, staring at the barrel of the gun pointed right at him and trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, knowing his stalling wouldn't buy him much more time.

"Looks like I already did." Sebastian replied cockily and took a step closer, the gun still steadily pointed in Kurt's direction. Swallowing down, Kurt decided to screw his pride and closed his eyes, not wanting Smythe's face to be the last thing he ever saw in his life. Instead, he thought of Blaine and his hazel eyes and that one smile he seemed to have reserved for Kurt only, the one that reached his eyes and made his entire face light up. Hearing the click of the gun, he focused on that picture and braced himself for the shot…

"Well, well, well." A sudden voice sounded next to them and Kurt's eyes popped open as his head snapped in the direction of the noise, just as Smythe's, both men immediately recognizing the voice. There, slowly and nonchalantly walking up to them was Blaine, hands in his pockets, wearing a smug expression on his face and in that moment Kurt knew that it wasn't the Blaine he had learned to know during the last months, it wasn't _his _Blaine. It was the Blaine that he had arrested five years ago and the one he offered the deal to in prison, the guarded and aloof one, with cold eyes and the always present smirk on his face. Kurt could only hope that Blaine was only pretending and trying to fool Smythe, but he would be lying if he said that there wasn't a tiny flicker of dread inside him, that maybe that was Blaine's plan all along.

"Blaine fucking Anderson!" Smythe exclaimed, his eyes wide in surprise, and he lowered the gun. "How the hell are you not in prison?"

"I'm on parole." Blaine grinned with a shrug. "Good behavior and all that shit." Hearing that, Kurt discreetly released the breath he was holding. If Blaine had been planning this all along, he would have had no reasons to lie to Smythe, he would have told him exactly how he managed to get out of prison earlier. Realizing he had to play along, Kurt glared at Blaine and huffed in annoyance, making Blaine glance at him with an arch eyebrow.

"Pretty boy. Fancy meeting you here." Blaine drawled, imitating what Kurt said to him right before he arrested him, just like he did when Kurt visited him in prison. Using the opportunity, he quickly looked him over, searching for any injuries, but luckily, it seemed that except from the gash on his head, Kurt was fine. "Anything you'd like to say?"

"Yeah." Kurt gritted through his clenched teeth. "I just wonder why I bothered catching you if they let you out almost immediately."

"Aw, the kitty got claws." Sebastian grinned. "But how the hell did you find me here?" He asked, turning back to Blaine.

"I've been watching agent pretty over there since I got out, planning what to do to him for locking me up." Blaine replied, shooting one more look in Kurt's direction before turning his gaze back to Sebastian. "Imagine my surprise when I was following him today and suddenly I saw someone smash a brick on the back of his head. Didn't know you had it in you, Bas, grabbing a fed in bright daylight? Bold move."

"A lot changed since you went away, Blaine." Sebastian shrugged. "Speaking of which, I'm sorry about that, I saw them approaching the docks, but before I could call and warn you, they already had you."

_Bullshit, _Blaine thought, rolling his eyes internally and forcing a neutral expression on his face. "I get it, don't worry about it." He replied. "Anyway, after I saw you drag him to your car, I got into my car and followed you here."

"I didn't even realize I was being tailed." Smythe mused with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I might have been in prison for five years, but I'm still that good, Bas." Blaine smirked. "So, what did he do to you?" He asked, gesturing at Kurt.

"Oh, agent fairy got a little too close." Smythe replied snidely, shooting a murderous glance in Kurt's direction.

"Craving another notch on your belt, don't you, agent Hummel?" Blaine raised his eyebrow. "Catching both of us, damn, that would sure boost your career up, wouldn't it?"

"Too bad it's never going to happen." Sebastian chuckled darkly and Blaine definitely didn't like the evil glint in his eyes, the clear sign that he was about to do something stupid and undoubtedly insane.

"What do you want to do with him?" Blaine asked, tilting his head curiously, but inside, he was full of panic, knowing that he was probably slowly running out of time and wouldn't be able to stall Sebastian for much longer. He was pretty sure that by now the warehouse was surrounded by agents led by Mike and Santana, but with Sebastian still armed, Blaine needed to get him away from Kurt before he could call for backup.

"Put a bullet straight through his head." Sebastian replied with a grin on his face and Blaine felt goosebumps on his skin when he saw it. Sebastian seemed even crazier than he had been before Blaine went to prison and it seemed like there was no way to talk him out of what he wanted to do. However, that didn't mean Blaine wouldn't try.

"Are you sure that's the best solution?" He asked, nonchalantly taking a few steps closer, making him stand almost right next to Kurt with Sebastian on his left. "There are so many things you could do now that you have him. He could be useful."

"You know what, you may be right." Sebastian slowly said with a lewd smirk on his face that made Blaine sick in his stomach. "He's a bit too girly for my taste, but if I turn him over so I don't have to see his face… We could have some fun."

"I didn't know that other than a murderer you have also become a rapist." Blaine said coldly, rage spreading through his body and he clenched his fists in his pockets when he glanced at Kurt, noticing that for the first time since he got to the warehouse, there was fear in Kurt's eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, relax, Blaine." Sebastian waved his hand dismissively. "Look, I know you were planning on taking your revenge and I kind of took it away from you, so you can have him first if you want."

"Pass." Blaine gritted out. "And you won't do it either."

"Still so fucking noble." Sebastian rolled his eyes. "But actually, you have a point, I don't have time for that. The feds are probably already looking for him all over the city." With that, he raised his hand with a determined expression on his face, pointing the gun straight at Kurt and Blaine knew that time was up. Seeing Sebastian smirk and his finger twitch on the trigger, Blaine made up his mind and without a second thought, he took a quick step forward, stepping between Kurt and Sebastian right when the sound of the gunshot echoed in the warehouse.

Everything that happened after that seemed to be happening at the same time. The sharp pain in his abdomen milliseconds after the gunshot, Kurt's loud, desperate scream, the shocked expression on Sebastian's face and the sudden wave of agents rushing into the warehouse. Feeling like everything was happening in slow motion, Blaine fell down on the ground, landing on his back as the ceiling started spinning, but suddenly there was Kurt's face above him and hands, probably Kurt's, pressing the wound and making Blaine groan loudly in pain and squeeze his eyes shut. When he opened them seconds later, Kurt's lips were moving, but Blaine couldn't hear anything except for the ringing in his ears and the only thing he could focus on was Kurt's face and those piercingly blue eyes above him. But there was something wrong, something that didn't fit and it took Blaine a moment to realize that there were tears rolling down Kurt's cheeks, tears that made his eyes seem ever more blue than usually, and it wasn't right, it wasn't right because Kurt didn't cry, Kurt hadn't cried since his parents' funeral because nothing as tragic had happened to him ever since, why would Kurt cry right now? It didn't make any sense…

Gathering all of his strength, he slowly lifted his hand, reaching for Kurt's face who must have realized what he was doing because he leaned closer until Blaine's fingers brushed against his cheek in a weak attempt of brushing his tears away. Feeling himself drift away, Blaine let his hand fall down and he could have sworn that he heard Kurt's desperate voice calling out his name before everything went black.

* * *

**Dum, dum, dum, dum... *chuckles devilishly and plays Beethoven's 5th Symphony***


End file.
